The Terms of War
by KK456
Summary: My lost season 4. With Hawke adapting to life as a single parent, could the people he trusts most, be about to deliver the biggest threat yet to his family, and Airwolf?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Somewhere North of Wichita, Kansas

Darkness had fallen quickly, like a shroud across the deserted parking lot. A a small, solitary street lamp provided the only source of light, casting an eerie, orange glow over the shadow of a Sedan, tucked neatly down the side of an old abandoned warehouse. Two hunched figures appeared from the rear of the car, their harried voices growing louder as they exited the alley.

"I told you, this is the place!"

"There's no one here, Jensen. There's no one for miles around! I think we should just go-"

Jensen swivelled on his heel, and thumped his hand onto the chest of his companion, who halted instantly.

"No. We stay"

The second man nodded, and satisfied he'd made his point, Jensen turned, and strode towards the light, mumbling under his breath.

"Roach, man?! Are you coming?"

Rubbing his chest from the earlier blow, Roach reluctantly followed, cursing his luck for being stuck in a deserted car park in the small hours of the morning. Dawn would soon break, and any chance of the elusive meeting would vanish.

Roach glanced around as they finally reached the small shaft of light which illuminated a little of their surroundings. Empty crates were stacked haphazardly against the side of the warehouse, the remnants of what they once contained, strewn across the floor. Windows were boarded up, doors bolted. A sign, the writing partially obscured, hung precariously by one corner, swinging back and forth in the breeze that was beginning to pick up momentum. It was clear no one had been here for a very long time. Roach glanced up as the street lamp flickered and died, plunging the parking lot once again into inky blackness.

"Shit!"

Marcus Jensen had never been a patient man. Much less one for candlestine meetings in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night. He wasn't a bad man, in fact compared to his associates, he should be polishing his halo. He just did what he needed to to get by. And if that meant breaking a few rules now and then, then so be it. His sole purpose was survival.

"I thought you said he'd be here at midnight"

Jensen ignored his companion and rummaged around in his pockets, letting out an exasperated sigh as he dug his hand deeper into the lining of his jacket.

"Jensen!"

Silence.

"Jensen! You there?"

A small flame emanated for Jensens right hand, casting a shadow across his rugged features.

"Yeah,. I'm here" Jensen confirmed, amused at his companions obvious discomfort of his surroundings.

"Where's your man?" Roach asked, leaning against the Sedan. "He was meant to be here an hour ago"

Jensen looked up as the street lamp flickered back to life, and in one swift movement, he snapped his Zippo lighter shut.

"Relax, Roach. He'll be here" Jensen replied with a grin, casually flicking the top of the lighter open and shut with his thumb. "Cullens a man of his word"

Jim Roach glanced around, his sharp, highly trained eye searching every dark corner for any sign of movement, his broad shoulders tensed and ready for a fight. His years as an operative for the FIRM had taught him to be on his guard, to be suspicious of every given situation.

Roach stuffed his wind weathered hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders as the wind began to pick up, hurling a tin can and an empty takeout box across the parking lot.

"Cullen sure does pick his places" Roach commented wryly, glancing up as something creaked ominously above his head "I mean, a pool and a few bikini models wouldn't have been to much to ask for!"

Roach chuckled at the irony of his own joke.

Jensen smiled as another click of the lighter caught Roach's attention

"Hey, come on Roach. Not afraid of the dark, are ya?"

Jensens dark eyes slid to the smaller man on his right.

"No" Roach replied defensively. "It's just that somewhere a little more-"

He searched for the right word

"Populated, would've been preferable"

"More people to see things they shouldn't" Jensen replied easily with another click of the Lighter. "And you know what happens to people who see things they shouldn't?"

Jensens gaze met Roach's, and his green eyes widened with the insinuation laced in the younger mans words.

Roach's brows knitted together in a frown as Jensen's shoulders began to shake, and suddenly realised Jensen was laughing. His confusion turned to irritation as he watched the cocky operative stow his lighter back in his jacket pocket, and realised with some chagrin he reminded him of someone else he used to know.

"Relax, man. I was kidding!" Jensen exclaimed as Roach let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Jeez, of all the people they could send, and I get stuck with a nervous nelly..."

Roach opened his mouth to protest, when a set of head lights swept around the vague outline of another abandoned building on the opposite side of the lot. He snapped his mouth closed and narrowed his eyes on the advancing limousine. In the rapidly fading light, he could just about make out three hazy outlines through the window. Automatically, his hand found its way to the gun snuggly tucked in the waistband of his sand coloured chinos.

"We're on" Jensen murmured, taking a step away from the Sedan.

Roach took a deep breath as the limo halted a few feet away and moved to join Jensen at the front of their own car. They were shoulder to shoulder.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened and three suited men exited the car, and immediately Jim Roach's interest was piqued. The older man, with dark brown hair permeated with streaks of grey, took the lead, his confident, powerful gait, insinuating that of a well seasoned soldier.

"Mr Cullen" Jensen nodded in acknowledgement "it's good to see you again, Sir"

"Marcus" Cullen returned. His voice was deep, almost glutteral, resonating deep from the base of his throat. Roach shivered slightly, perturbed by this formiddable individual. He turned to look at Roach.

"You must be Roach" Cullen extended his hand. "I'm pleased to be doing business with you"

Roach could only manage a half smile as he twisted his hand free from the iron grip of the older man.

His eyes travelled over his well worn features. He was a good looking man, no doubt about that. He was strong and athletic.

Roach had read his file. For his fifty years, he kept himself in good shape, and was never short of a female companion or two. Despite his good looks, years of hardship were beginning to show, adding a few years onto the permanent lines etched into his brow. His once soft brown eyes now had a cold, hard edge, that made the small hairs on the back of Roach's neck stand on end.

"Well, let's get this over with" Roach replied, not particularly in the mood for pleasantries. "Did you bring the goods?"

Cullen chuckled

"We are in a hurry, aren't we" he smiled "Slow down, Mr Roach. I have the goods. They are to be transported into the United States, noon on Friday. You will have you share then."

Roach snorted

"How do you intend to get the stuff into the States?" He asked incredulously, ignoring Jensens worried expression thrown in his direction "you think you can just, walk it through customs?"

"You underestimate me, Mr Roach. One man will bring it into the States. Under the radar. No-one will know were there"

Roach and Jensen fell silent as they processed the implication.

"Now just hang on a minute" Jensen pushed himself away from the hood of the car he'd been using as a perch "You mean Hawke and that machine of his?"

Jensen looked nervously between Cullens lackeys who remained inanimate.

"Very perceptive, Mr Jensen"

Roach remained silent, fearing any false move would blow his cover. He hadn't been prepared for this development, and now it was imperative he adapted accordingly.

"No, no, no... You're crazy!" Jensen exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Cullens direction"If you think Hawkes-"

"DONT worry about Stringfellow Hawke" Cullen replied, cutting Jensen off mid flow. "I can assure you, his compliance will not be an issue"

Jensen ran a hand through his dark mass of curls as he blew out his cheeks.

"You'll kill us all, man" Jensen muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

A slight movement from the rear of the car, teased Roach's peripheral vision. Cullens head swivelled as the rear door opened, drawing Roach's attention to a fourth occupant, who had waited until now to exit the car. His mouth dropped open as he took in the blinding haze of white, the eye patch as black as the night that hid a myriad of secrets, and the silver handle of a cane, glinting in the moonlight.

Roach couldn't speak, any words he attempted to formulate, caught fast in his throat. Feeling the heat begin to rise, Roach loosened his collar, and swiped away a solitary bead of sweat from his brow.

The newcomer tipped his Panama hat in greeting, a wide smile spreading across his face

"Gentlemen"

"Michael-" Roach croaked in reply, before Cullen turned back to face the men.

"As I said. Hawkes compliance will not be an issue"


	2. Chapter 2

Stringfellow Hawke checked his watch for the tenth time in an hour as he gathered up the breakfast dishes and dumped them unceremoniously in the sink. Without breaking stride, he swivelled on his heel and made his way back across the living room towards the stairs, sidestepping the open chemistry and history textbooks strewn across the cabin floor with relative ease. In the four and a half weeks that he'd taken in his nephew Le, his life had become disorganised. Messy. he finally reached the stairs, he grimaced as a crunching sound beneath his feet announced the demise of his nephews favourite remote controlled helicopter Cait had given him for his birthday.

Hawke knelt down beside the mangled wreckage and picked up the remains of what used to be the tail rotor. From his,place on the hearth, Tet raised his head and watched his master with interest as he tossed the twisted plastic aside, and surveyed the destruction that currently encompassed his living room. Anyone on the outside would think a hellfire missile had landed bang in the middle of the cabin, as opposed to the presence of one thirteen year old boy. Hawke sighed as he looked around his once solitary retreat, and as his gaze alighted on his faithful hound, Tet cocked his head and let out a mournful whine at the sullen expression that crossed his masters face.

"Yeah"

A thump from upstairs pulled Hawke from his reverie, and pushing himself to his feet, he crossed the living room to the foot of the new stairwell that served the upstairs extension to the cabin.

"Half-Pint!" He yelled "Would ya get down here! I gotta be at the hangar in-" he checked his watch "Half an hour!"

Hawke waited and listened for any sound from the new bedrooms.

"Half-Pint!"

"Just a minute Uncle String!" Came a muffled reply.

Hawke muttered under his breath. The stunt started in twenty minutes and even flying at Mach one, he'd never make it in time. He'd worked with the studio director before, and patience wasn't one of his virtues.

"Le-"

Hawke paused as his nephew bounded down the stairs, his oversized rucksack hanging from one shoulder. Hawke took in the youngsters appearance. His usually floppy, dark hair was neatly combed to the side with what looked like half a tub of hair wax, and his maroon school blazer neatly ironed and pressed. The fact that he even had it on was a miracle in itself.

"You ready, Uncle String?" He asked nonchalantly, jumping down the last two stairs. Hawke's blue eyes narrowed on the young Amerasian as he strolled casually past his bristling uncle.

"Yeah. For the last hour. What took you so long?" Hawke asked as he opened the door and grabbed his flight jacket off the peg.

" Stuff" Le replied vaguely, taking a step outside the cabin.

"Wait-"

Le felt a strong hand on his shoulder, halting him in the cabin doorway. Hawke ducked his head and leaned in closer to Le. The teenager squeezed his eyes closed and held his breath as his uncle straightened, not seeing the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Is that cologne?"

Hawke wondered vaguely where his Drakkar Noir had disappeared to.

Hawke quickly wiped the smile from his face as Le turned and pinned Hawke with a glare to rival one of his uncles.

"Can we just go, Uncle String?"

Hawke shrugged his shoulders and closed the cabin door behind him.

"Sure"

"Great" Le replied under his breath as Hawke shrugged on his jacket and followed his nephew to the white jet ranger waiting on the dock.

"Hey! Half -Pint!"

Le pulled the cockpit door open an inch as Hawke joined him at the chopper. Hawke leaned towards his nephew, his piercing blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Are ya gonna tell me her name?"

Le's dark eyes flashed angrily, and without another word he pulled himself into the cockpit and slammed the door. Le watched through the window as his grinning uncle rounded the front of the chopper and folded his arms defiantly across his chest. This was going to be a long flight.

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWA

Conversations about Caitlin...

Stringfellow Hawke resisted the urge to smile as he glanced across at his nephew in the co pilots seat. He sat in his seat, ramrod straight, resolutely looking anywhere but at the pilot. Not a word had passed his lips for almost the entire flight, and clearly his own propensity for brooding and long silences had rubbed off on his nephew.

Hawke turned his attention back to the sky as a small voice crackled through the headset.

"Hey, Uncle String?"

Hawke glanced across at Le.

"Yeah?"

"Are Cait and uncle Dom coming to the cabin tonight after my soccer game?"

"Nah. Not tonight" Hawke replied "Why?"

Le shifted his small frame and twisted round in his seat to face Hawke.

"I really wanna show Cait my experiment for the science fair next week" Le chattered excitedly, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the female pilot. "She promised she'd help me and she's got this really cool idea..."

A warmth encompassed Hawke as he listened to his nephew talk excitedly about the pretty, red headed pilot who had dropped into his life almost four years ago. She'd surreptitiously wormed her way past his defences and into his life like she'd always been there, and if he was honest, he couldn't really remember life before she arrived. She'd been a godsend since he'd taken on Le, watching him at a moments notice when Hawke couldn't be around and all without complaint. Hawke had no idea how he would've managed without her.

"So, what do you think?"

Jarred from his thoughts, Hawke stared vacantly across at his nephew

"Huh? About what?"

"Cait!" Le exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat "Will you ask her?"

Hawke returned his eyes to the sky in front, gripping the cyclic a little tighter.

"Cait probably has plans-"

Le leaned back into his seat as a sly grin spread across his face.

"She'll come if you ask her"

Hawke shifted in his seat and scowled.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll talk to Cait-"

Le punched the air triumphantly as Hawkes lips twisted into a grin

" IF you give me her name"

The ecstatic grin quickly slipped from Le's face and he slumped back into his seat, his arms crossed defiantly across his chest.

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

Promises are hard to keep...

"You are coming to my soccer game this afternoon?" Le Van Hawke's dark eyes narrowed accusingly on the pilot as they stood at the gates of the Nuys Academy. Hawke glanced over Le's shoulder as a sea of green and maroon trooped past the pair, and through the large, wrought iron gates that led to the sprawling mansion that was the Nuys Academy, and suddenly remembered why he left school duty mainly to Cait. They moved aside as a large four by four turned into the gravel driveway.

"I'll be there"

Le's eyes dropped to the floor as he scuffed the stones with his school shoes.

"That's what you said last time"

Hawke winced as though he'd been slapped. The missed karate tournament last week was still weighing heavily on his mind, and he knew he had to find someway of making it up to him.

"Hey-"

Hawke placed his hands on Le's shoulders and turned the boy to face him. Le kept his eyes resolutely on the ground.

"Le-"

Hawke caught Le's chin with his hand, nudging it slightly so that Le's gaze met his.

"I promise"

Hawke pulled the teenager into a hug and wondered for the millionth time how he was going to make this all work.

"I better go" Le murmured as he pulled out of Hawke's embrace "I'll see ya later"

Hawke watched as Le joined a group of classmates and trudged through the open gates. Hooking his sunglasses over his ears, Hawke made his way back to the familiar red, white and blue jeep parked on the corner and swung himself inside. Hawke folded his arms across the steering wheel as a group of older girls in Academy uniform, strolled arm in arm towards the gates, deep in conversation. The middle of the group, the only blonde, her hair scraped back into a pony tail, laughed at her friends joke, her striking blue eyes widening as she whispered into her friends ear. Le glanced up and stopped as the group approached, seemingly mesmerised by the sight in front of him. Hawke rested his chin on his arms and watched intently as the blonde glanced in Le's direction and flashed him a half smile as her group continued on through the gates. Le stumbled forward as his friend Billy slapped him on the shoulder and dragged him inside.

Hawke grinned as he released the handbrake and merged into the California traffic.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

The movie lot for the new Paramount motion picture was a hive of activity. Lighting guys perched precariously on top of their ladders, adjusting he angle of their huge, heavy equipment. A harried runner bustled past the Santini Air trailer and knocked forcefully on the trailer across the lot, barking something about make up and hair through the closed metal door. Bellisarius had promised stars for the Lead roles, and it had been billed as the box office smash of the year.

Dominic Santini harrumphed emphatically as he paced up and down outside the Santini Air trailer, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the director yelling out across the set.

"Of all the low down-"

"Dom!" Dom glanced round at the trailer at the sound of the familiar Texan drawl, and the slender form of Caitlin O'Shannessy, the pretty third member of the Airwolf crew, appeared in the doorway.

"Would you quit pacing around?" She admonished as she shrugged on the lurid green jacket that that accounted for half her costume for the scene. As she turned up the sleeves, she stopped and glanced up at Dom who had promptly resumed his pacing at the front of the trailer.

"What has got you so darn fired up anyways?" Caitlin asked, her brows knitting together in a frown. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she instantly regretted it. The older man swivelled on his heel and turned to face the red head, the famous Santini glare set across his craggy features.

"I said nine o clock!" Dom bellowed, prompting a small smile from Cait. "Not ten, not eleven-" Dom leaned towards Cait and ticked them off one by one on his fingers "Nine!"

Cait untucked her hair, the vibrant red softened by the California sun, out of the collar of her jacket and allowed it to flow loosely around her shoulders.

"So?" She answered with a mock teasing tone

"SO?" Dom repeated, his voice rising an octave " I'm here, you're here"

He gestured towards Cait and jammed his meaty hands on his hips

"So where the hell is String?!"

Cait bit her bottom lip and quickly covered her mouth with her hand as she fought to smother a giggle

Dom's bushy eyebrows fell as he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the pilot.

"So you think this is funny, huh?" Dom groused, as he whipped off his red satin baseball cap and smoothed out the grey wispy curls underneath. "I figured you'd take his side. I'll tell you one thing, missy-"

"He'll be here, Dom" Cait assured him, watching as he jammed his cap back on. "Even if he is a little late"

Dom stopped pacing and looked over his shoulder at the woman he thought of as a daughter. She always knew how to wrap him around her little finger.

"Mnnnnnnnnn" Dom grumbled as Cait flashed him a smile he never could resist. Hawke was safe. For now.

Dom rolled his eyes at the sight of the movie director striding across the lot and brought his palms together in silent prayer.

"Mamma Mia!" He mumbled, before breaking into a wide gap tooth grin and striding off open armed towards the approaching director.

"Victor!"

Cait watched as Dom slapped Vic on the shoulder in greeting, and lead him off towards the set. Cait sighed. This was the third time String had been late this week, and they were in danger of losing the contract. Doms livelihood was at stake and String had been so caught up caring for Le and flying Airwolf missions for the FIRM, he hadn't seen what was happening closer to home. Paramount had asked for Hawke personally and the director Victor Kinson didn't suffer tardiness gladly. Yesterday evening , when they were enjoying a moments peace by the lake at the cabin, Hawke had insisted he take Le to school, a duty usually assigned to Cait. Whilst she usually managed the trip in good time, arriving at the hangar slightly before nine, Hawke seemed to have a problem with organisation. Cait smiled as her thoughts turned to the pilot. A brilliant strategist outdone by a teenage boy. Shaking her head at the thought, Cait turned up her collar and strode off across the lot.

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

Hawke turned the jeep into a parking spot at the movie set and killed the ignition. He remained in his seat, watching through the windshield at Dom and Cait deep in discussion with the director. The wind was picking up, which would make the tricky stunt even more dangerous. His thoughts turned to Le, and what would happen to the boy, should anything happen to him whilst on a mission or during a movie stunt. Could he really let Le lose yet another parent? And with the nature of his work with the FIRM and Santini Air, that was an infinite possibility.

A warmth encompassed Hawke as his gaze alighted on Cait, his eyes travelling up her shapely denham clad thigh. She pushed aside the hair from her face and took a step closer to Dom, who was still in an animated discussion with the director. He couldn't imagine his life without this family he'd cobbled together, and if he was truthful, without The Lady. With an increasing sense of unease weighing heavily on his chest, Hawke quickly exited the jeep, and made his way across the movie set to accept his fate.

"I'm tellin'ya, Vic.. You asked for two choppers! Not three!. What do you think I am? An Airline?"

Cait's face lit up as she scraped her windswept hair away from her face.

"Y'know, Dom, we do have the Huey we used in that commercial last month-"

Dom turned and glared at Cait, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

"Now, Dominic, we have a contract don't we?" Victor replied, flashing Dom a set of pearly white teeth.

"Why, yes we do" Dominic replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm

"And you wouldn't want to go back on that contract, now would you?"

Dom puffed out his expansive chest

"Well I wouldn't-"

"Great!" Victor enthused, spreading his arms " I'm happy were all on board." He clapped his hands together causing Cait to flinch. "Now, if you would be so good as to tell me when Hawke's finally here, then maybe we can get down to business, huh? We're on a tight schedule' my friends!"

Victors eyebrows shot up as he surveyed the pilots in front of him. Dom stole a glance at Cait, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"He's here "

The deep, gravel tone caused three heads to snap up, and Doms eyes widened as Hawke approached the trio. A smile ghosted Victors lips as he looked the pilot up and down, his eyes travelling over his dishevelled appearance.

"Hey, hotshot... Nice of you to join us" Victor said, his eyes dancing with amusement at Hawke's creased and untucked plaid shirt.

"Now you're all accounted for, we'll start in five, and pleaaaase do your stunts in one take?"

Hawke replied with a curt nod

"Bless you" Victor replied, clasping his hands together. "Okay! Places people!" He yelled as he skipped away across the set.

""Late again, Hawke?" Cait smiled, as she stepped towards him and adjusted his shirt collar, turning it down over his sweater and smoothing her fingers across the material. "You're making it a bit of a habit"

Hawke pulled off his aviators and caught her gaze, smiling at the warmth in her eyes.

"Well, I thought being a hotshot pilot, the boss would cut me some slack"

Dom's mouth dropped open as he glanced between the pair.

"Hotshot pi- where the helluv'ya been?" Dom bellowed, striding towards Hawke" I said nine o clock!"

Suddenly aware of his proximity, Hawke took a step away from Cait and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

"Around" Hawke gestured vaguely with his sunglasses. "Sorry, Dom. Guess I just lost track of time"

Dom's expression softened as he took in the appearance of his surrogate son. Taking in Le had affected all of them, but Dom was glad Hawke had Cait watching his back. He hadn't mentioned anything to String or Caitlin, but he was tired. Physically and mentally he was completely and utterly exhausted. Michael had arranged for him to see a FIRM doctor first thing Monday morning, and he was determined to keep it to himself.

"Ah, well. No harm done. Let's all just..get back to business, huh?"

Dom replied, waving his hand over his shoulder. Hawke and Cait stood side by side and watched as the blue jacket and red satin baseball cap vanished into the myriad of cast and crew.

" Is Dom okay?" Cait asked suddenly, looking up at String.

"He's okay" String confirmed, glancing up in Dom's direction just to make sure. "Why?"

Cait shrugged a shoulder and adjusted her ill-fitting jacket

"He seems-" she paused as she searched for the right word. " Sad. Tired?" She looked up into his piercing blue eyes

"Tell me he's okay"

Hawke rested his hands on Caits shoulders and massaged them gently with his thumbs

"He's fine" Hawke assured, attempting to conceal his own burgeoning worry. Cait held Hawkes gaze for a moment, searching his eyes with her own. Behind that impassive mask, she could tell Hawke was just as worried about Dom as she was. Cait bit her bottom lip and nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"Hey"

Hawke nudged Caits chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him. His other hand lingered on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"He's okay" Hawke repeated. A small smile tugged at Caits lips, and she nodded firmly.

"Talking of Dom, we better go, before he blows a gasket" Cait grinned, as they turned and walked side by side towards the set, falling into easy conversation about the stunt. They'd almost reached the set, when a feeling of unease that he couldn't quite explain, suddenly washed over the pilot. Falling into silence, Hawke hooked his aviators over his ears as they came to a halt beside the camera crew.

"Somethin' botherin' you, Hawke?" Cait asked with a small smile.

Hawke jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels.

"Le's been going on about that science fair of his" Hawke said, finally finding his voice.

"Yeah, he really had some great ideas"

"He'd really like you to come up to the cabin. He wants to show you some experiment he's designed-"

Caits eyes danced with amusement at Hawkes obvious discomfort. She was determined to enjoy this.

"Oh" she nodded

"Only if you don't already have plans-" Hawke added quickly as he gestured towards Cait, his voice trailing away as a frown creased his brow. He was perturbed by Caits silence. Normally she jumped at the chance to go to the cabin, and she'd been there regularly over the last few weeks.

"Sure, Why not" Cait replied, with a shrug.

String let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Beats a night in with my tax returns"

Cait crinkled her nose at the thought. Hawke stifled a chuckle and took a sharp breath in as he suddenly thought how beautiful she looked at that moment. The fleeting thought disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived.

"Great. We can head up after the stunt" Hawke said as he slipped his arm round Caits shoulders.

"You know, I even saw a pregnant doe last week-"

Cait stopped and turned to face him, Hawkes' strong hands falling to her hips.

"Oh no you don't, Stringfellow Hawke" Cait scolded as she jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "Spinning me a line like that "

The deep Texan drawl emphasised the last few words and taken aback, Hawkes hands dropped to his side and he took a step back.

"What line?"

Cait's annoyance quickly dissipated as she saw the look of pure innocence in his eyes.

"As if you don't know" she smiled, whacking him playfully in the chest. "Let's go flyboy, else Dom'll have our hides"

Watching through a gap in the crowd, Dominic Santini broke into a wide, gap tooth grin.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Things aren't always what they seem...

The last, pale rays of the late afternoon California sun streamed across Van Nuys Airport, basking the Santini Air hangar in a warm, yellowish glow.

Dominic Santini grunted and shifted position above the Jet Ranger as he fought to loosen a stubborn bolt. The stunt earlier in the day had gone more or less to plan, and they were using their free time to catch up with some much needed maintenance on the Jet Ranger.

His mind wandered to the scene he'd witnessed that morning between String and Cait, and his heart warmed. Cait had been helping out a lot with Le, and had been a fixture at the cabin almost every other day.

String even seemed to enjoy having her around, which ,for someone that spent their life running from people, was progress in itself. String deserved to be happy, and Dom was resolute in the thought that Cait was the one that could make him happy. Whether he liked it or not, Hawke needed her, and maybe now with his failing health, it was time for a shove in the right direction. Pushing his impending Doctors appointment to the back of his mind, Dom cleared his throat.

"Pretty evening"

"W-hat?" Hawke grunted from his position beaneath the belly of the ranger.

"I said-" Dom continued, raising his voice. "Ah, never mind. Would ya get out here!"

Almost instantly, Hawke rolled out on the trolley from underneath the chopper, a wrench clasped firmly in his hand.

"What is it Dom?!" He growled, glaring up at his mentor who leaned over the tail. "I'm trying to get this hunk of junk fixed before sundown!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I keepin' you from something?" Dom asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Nothin' you need worry about" Hawke muttered, turning his attention back to the job in hand. He rolled back under the ranger as his thoughts drifted back to the red headed pilot. She was due back any minute with her latest student

"That so." Dom mused, raising his eyebrows. Choosing his words carefully, he pushed with all of his weight against the bolt.

"It wouldn't be a weekend at the cabin with a certain red head, huh?"

Underneath the ranger, Hawke paused and carefully considered his response. If he denied it, it would only serve to make Dom ten times worse with his misplaced matchmaking.

"Maybe" he replied irritably, thumping the wrench against the fuel line.

Doms eyes glittered with mirth

"A date?"

Hawke dropped the wrench to the floor with a clatter, and pushed himself out from beneath the Ranger.

"No." Hawke scowled, still flat on his back "definitely NOT a date "

Dom folded his arms across the tail and nodded, the corners of his lips curling into a grin

"If you say so. But I gotta say, you kids've been spending an awful lotta time together lately" Dom continued, working his way down the ladder. "Hell, I was only at the cabin the other day and she was doing your laundry..." A bark of laughter came from the bottom of the ladder as Hawkes icy blue eyes flashed dangerously.

"What's your point, Dom?"

Dom paused at the bottom of the ladder.

"All I'm saying is, you won't find a better lady than Cait. " mused Dom as he reached into the tool box "Maybe you need to open up those eyes of yours"

Hawke sighed heavily as his gaze dropped to the oily rag he was using to wipe his hands.

"Let it go, Dom-"

His tone was almost pleading "She's just a kid"

Hawke sighed heavily and tossed the rag on the floor.

Doms head snapped up at the pilots reply, his hand hovering above the tool box. His expression suddenly darkened as his anger bubbled to the surface.

Dominic Santinis ' grey, bushy eyebrows practically covered his eyes as he frowned at his friend.

"Now, listen here, String, and you listen good" Dom roared, waving a coupling wrench menacingly. Hawke averted his eyes away from the older man, and jabbed at the floor with his screwdriver.

"Caitlin is no kid. Ah, hell! Even you should know that by now, even with that hard head of yours!"

The pilots voice boomed around the hangar, and Hawke suddenly found a spot of grease on the floor very appealing.

Doms gaze softened as he saw Strings own inner battle over his feelings for Cait. He was more transparent than he realised. Dom sighed, wishing he could bash the couples heads together, and make them see what was right in front of them.

"All I'm saying is kid, I'm not gonna be around forever-"

Strings gaze snapped up at Dom's seemingly trivial comment, as his worry slowly began to resurface

"And you can't spend your entire life holed up at that mountain of yours!"

"I know it" Hawke agreed with a resigned sigh

"...String?"

Hawke met Doms gaze, his eyes pleading with Dom not to push this any further. He'd deal with it in his own time, in his own way. Dom opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly from outside the hangar, a sound teased the edge of Hawkes sensitive hearing.

"We've got company"

Raising an eyebrow, Dom followed String to the entrance of the hangar, just as the familiar white limo rounded the corner and came to a stop outside.

"I tell you, kid-" Dom thought aloud, shaking his head. "I still don't know how you do that"

Hawke glanced across at Dom as the drivers door opened, and the long, white-clad legs of Archangels latest beautiful, blonde aide, swept gracefully out of the car.

Dom leaned towards String as she rounded the front of the limo and whistled approvingly through his teeth,

"Where'd Archangel find that one, huh?"

They exchanged a smile as Michael, dressed immaculately as usual in his white three piece suit, exited the limo and limped heavily towards the men.

"Why, good morning Michael" Dom greeted with a sweet smile.

"Dominic, Hawke. I hope I haven't come at a bad time ?"

The sour look on Hawkes face told him he'd done just that.

"Make it quick, Michael" Hawke bit out as he turned and stalked back into the hangar, his mind, for the time being, completely elsewhere. Watching the sullen pilots retreating form, Michael glanced across at Dom and raised his eyebrow quizzically. Dom shrugged a shoulder, indicating to the white clad spy he had no idea the reason behind Hawkes' sudden inhospitable mood.

"Fine. I don't have the time for pleasantries, anyway" Michael replied, as he and Dom followed Hawke inside. "I'll get to the point"

"Huh. That'll be a first" Dom muttered under his breath.

Ignoring the comment, Michael took a Manila folder bearing the FIRMs logo from his aide and handed it Hawke, only to be met with a pair of coverall clad legs as he rolled back underneath the belly of the Jet Ranger.

Michael gritted his teeth in an attempt to stifle his growing annoyance. Even at the best of times, Hawke could be difficult, but it was apparent today, he'd surpassed even himself.

"At oh three hundred yesterday, a small ,tactical assault team infiltrated the largest drugs smuggling operation and extortion racket this side of the East Coast" Michael began, directing the briefing towards Dom. A loud bang emanated from underneath the jet ranger as Hawke threw a hammer back in the tool box.

Oblivious to the disturbance, Dom leafed through the pages of the file and stopped as he came to a grainy, black and white photograph. He studied the two men in the photo, who appeared to be shaking hands.

"Hey-" Dom jabbed his finger at the older man in the photo. "Isn't he that industrialist guy I saw on the news?" He asked, looking up at Michael.

Michael nodded

"Sam Cullen" Michael confirmed "a hard nosed, self made millionaire, and a real piece of work"

He tapped his cane on the floor thoughtfully as Dom snapped the file closed.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are the FIRM interested in a run of the mill extortion racket?"

"The FIRM had recently-" Michael broke off as a loud clanging echoed round the hangar, and as he stared down at the source of the noise, a small frown creased the spy's brow. Hawke hammered the wrench hard against the belly of the Jet Ranger, seemingly oblivious to the proceedings above.

"RECENTLY RECEIVED INTELLIGENCE THAT CULLEN WAS SELLING ASSAULT WEAPONS TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER" Michael continued, raising his voice above the noise.

"Oh?" Dom raised his eyebrows, sensing there was more to this than Michael was letting on.

"Three nights ago, a weapon and ammunition developed by the FIRM , was stolen from a highly classified, government installation-" Michael sighed inwardly with relief as the banging finally stopped and he was able to return his voice back to a normal volume

" By someone within Cullens organisation that was providing information to the FIRM-"

A bark of laughter stopped Michael short.

"You guys sure have a problem holding onto highly classified equipment!"

Michael adjusted his wire rimmed glasses.

"Indeed" he commented wryly.

"So these guys you sent in after him-"

"Three men. " Michael indicated on his fingers "they never checked in"

"And you want us.." Dom began, gesturing at Hawke "to go in and...and find out what happened?"

"Exactly"

"Ah, I dunno, Michael" Dom replied, waving his hand at the spy. "If this weapon is as top secret as you say it is, then why-"

"Didn't I use Airwolf?" Michael finished as he raised his eyebrows.

The question hung starkly in the air between the two men, and with his interest piqued, Hawke slowly rolled out from beneath the Jet Ranger.

"The weapon was still in the developmental stage, and had yet to be tested to its full capability" he explained, his gaze alighting on Hawke. "I didn't want to put Airwolf at risk unless ABSOLUTELY necessary"

"At risk from what?"

Hawke spoke for the first time since Michael had begun the briefing. The gruff tone had Michael shifting awkwardly on the spot, and he rubbed his temple with the silver handle of his cane, as he considered his answer.

Hawke pushed himself to his feet and glanced over at Dom whose dark expression had him turning back to the spy. Dom folded his arms resolutely across his chest.

"You sure as hell better level with me, Michael, or I'm walking straight-"

"Alright, alright"

Archangel straightened his posture and squared his shoulders, preparing for the onslaught he knew was about to come his way.

"The F-400, the largest calibre rifle ever built" Michael explained as Hawke and Dom exchanged a glance."It takes a .950 caliber round, 2400 grains and is propelled by 240 grains of powder, and was developed exclusively for the military"

"Impressive" Dom mused "but still no match for The Lady"

Michael held his breath

"The rounds are armour piercing-"

Dominic unfurled his arms and stared open mouthed at Hawke

"Even up against the Lady?" Hawke asked, snatching up the file from the bench and rapidly scanning the contents

"I don't care to find out- but I'm out of options, gentlemen"

Hawke closed the file and glared at the spy.

"And you want us to do what, exactly? "Hawke asked "Apart from dodge bullets that may, or may not blow us straight to hell, looking for some mole that's jumped froggy on you-"

"And if you can, find out what he knows and bring him in for questioning!"

"Hmmmpfff" Dom harrumphed, rolling his eyes "looking for a mole that doesn't want to be found? Piece of cake!"

Hawkes lips twisted into a grin at the jibe.

"Dammit Dominic! This isn't some stunt in a movie!" Michael spluttered, his one good eye flashing angrily. Hawke and Dom glanced at each other, slightly taken aback at the spy's uncharacteristic outburst .

"I haven't got time to verbally fence with you! This is a national priority! "

Michael glared at Hawke as he turned his back to the spy and made his way across the hangar to the coffee percolator.

"It always is" he muttered under his breath

Michael watched as Hawke poured the muddy, brown liquid into a mug and grimaced at t he sight.

"Hawke, if this weapon falls into the wrong hands, the repercussions at the FIRM would be exceptional."Michael mused thoughtfully, as Hawke perched on the edge of the bench "there'd be an investigation, and half of the committee would be up on some heavy charges!"

Hawke took a sip of his coffee and surveyed the spy over the rim of his mug.

"That's a shame"

A wry smile crossed Michaels tanned features, flashing a set of perfectly white teeth

"A top secret, highly dangerous, multi million dollar piece of military weaponry, capable of disabling Airwolf permanently, is currently in the hands of probably the most notorious crime syndicate on the East Coast, and your-" Michael indicated , pointing his cane in Hawkes direction "classification of the problem is 'shame'"

Hawke hid his widenening smile behind his mug.

"Your mastery of silence is only exceeded by your facility at understatement, and both astound me, even after all these years, Hawke " Michael said with a shake of his head.

"Why, thank you"

Hawke placed his mug on the bench and sighed

"What do you need from us, Michael?"

Laura produced a CD from the inside of her flight suit.

"Cullen owns a few small holdings in Pennsylvania under an assumed name" Laura explained.

"Perfect place to stash a stolen weapon"

Hawke commented, earning a nod off agreement from Dom

"All the information you need is on this disc which is compatible with Airwolfs computers " she explained, handing it to Hawke. "The coordinates of Cullens holdings are contained within the disc. We need to to go in and find out what happened to those men"

Hawkes eyes widened as he caught sight of the solitary tear that rolled down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away as she regained her composure

"One of them was my brother"

"And a good friend to the FIRM" Michael added, stealing Hawkes attention away from the blonde.

"CIA?"

Michael gave a brief nod

"Covert ops." He said sadly. " They were good men"

The group retreated into silence as they all pondered the enormity of the situation. Hawke bowed his head sadly as thoughts of Saint John permeated his mind and he knew all too well the pain and grief of losing a loved one. It was permanently seared across his heart. After several, long minutes, Michaels voice finally broke the sombre silence.

"I need you in the air as soon as humanly possible"

"Well, sure" Dom replied, gesturing to Hawke "just as soon as head to Le's soccer game, right, String?"

Dom raised his bushy eyebrows, fervently hoping Hawke would follow his lead.

Michael placed his hand on Hawkes shoulder and lead the pilot towards the office. They stopped short of the door, and turned to face each other.

"I can't press upon you enough the urgency of this mission, Hawke" With a heavy sigh, Hawke glanced across the hangar at Dom, feeling any last, waning hope of keeping his promise to the people he loved, vanish through his fingertips

"Fine." Hawke replied gruffly " Whatever you want, Michael"

Dom rolled his eyes and silently gestured heavenwards as Michael brushed past him and triumphantly made his way back across the hangar.

"I appreciate it. Oh and Hawke-"

The spy stopped as he and Laura reached the door and turned to face the Airwolf crew, catching the icy blast of Hawkes' gaze across the hangar.

"Come back in one piece"

A smile tugged at the corner of Hawkes' lips

"We always do, Michael"

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

"Come back in one piece?!" Dominic Santini bellowed, gesturing animatedly as he paced around the hangar. He finally came to a halt, and wagged his meaty finger in Hawkes' direction "I'm telling you, String, I don't like this one, little bit"

Staring out across the Tarmac through the open hangar door, watching the last, pale rays of the afternoon sun fade into the distance, Stringfellow Hawke shifted his position on the workbench and rested his arm across his knee.

"Me either, Dom." He replied, deep in thought.

"And what about Caitlin?" Dom asked, jamming his hands onto his hips. "And Le's soccer game, huh?"

Hawke glanced over his shoulder at the older man, and turned back to look out across the Tarmac, the burden of a broken promise weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"They'll understand"

"You hope" Dom scolded "it's not the first time you've let that kid down. And Cait, well she's got a heart as big as Texas."

Hawke sighed

"I'll make it up to them, Dom"

"Hmmpffff. You just make sure you do, otherwise Cait'll kick your six right into next Tuesday!"

Hawke chuckled prompting Dom to break into a wide grin

"I know she will" Hawke smiled as he pushed himself to his feet

"C'mon, Dom. Let's go get the Lady. We'll radio Cait from the air" Hawke slapped his mentor on the shoulder, and the two men walked side by side out of the hangar, closing the door behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

Caitlin O' Shannessy shielded her eyes from the fading sun as she jogged across the Tarmac towards the Santini Air hangar. Cait had spent the entire hour of the lesson, trying to convince her student that a fear of confined spaces probably wasn't conducive to getting a pilots licence in the grand scheme of things.

She lowered her hand as she caught sight Hawkes motorcycle parked in its usual spot outside the hangar, but was more troubled by the notable absence of familiar the red, white and blue jeep. Her brow furrowed as she pushed open the door and surveyed the deserted hangar.

"Guys?"

Her Texan twang echoed round the empty hangar.

"Hawke?!" She called as she walked past the downed set of tools and pushed open the door to the office.

"Dom?!"

She exited through the other door and shoved her hands against her narrow hips.

"You could've at least left a note" she grumbled to herself. Her eyes snapped up as the radio crackled to life.

"Caitlin. Come in. This is Hawke. "

Cait sprinted across the hangar and snatched up the receiver.

"Cait, do you read me?"

"I read ya Hawke" Caitlin answered, breathing a little heavily from her 50 yard dash. She peeled an errant strand of strawberry blonde hair away from her eyes and frowned. " Where are you guys?"

"Somewhere across the Pacific Ocean" came the gruff reply.

"The Pacific oc- Hawke, why?"

"It's a long story." The radio crackled with silence before Hawke spoke again "Cait, I need you do something for me"

"Sure, Hawke. Anything you need." She paused, and with a sinking heart she spoke slowly and carefully into the receiver "Is Dom with you?"

"I'm here, honey" Dom answered, confirming Caitlin's suspicions. They were on a mission.

"Are you guys alright?" Cait asked, wide eyed as her heart hammered against her chest. "You're not in any kinda trouble? If you need me to call Michael, I -" the words tumbled from her mouth, and she paused, trying to catch her breath.

Hawkes ice blue eyes betrayed the smile currently concealed by the large, heavy helmet

"We're fine"

Cait closed her eyes and placed her palm against her chest as she sighed with relief. Hawke seemed to have a habit of walking headlong into trouble. Opening her eyes, Cait spoke into the receiver.

"What do you need? "

"I need you watch Le tonight." Hawke replied, a tinge of regret lacing his every word.

"Sure, I can do that. You know I love spending time with Le. But Hawke, what about his soccer game?"

From his position inside the cockpit of Airwolf, Hawke shifted in his seat and gripped the cyclic a little tighter. His deep sigh crackled through the headset and Dom bowed his head.

"Tell Half- Pint I'm sorry. And I'll make it up to him-"

"Sure. No problem" Cait murmured, her reply barely audible as she fought to surpress her blossoming disappointment

"To both of you"

Caits breath hitched in her chest at Hawkes reply, and a small smile played across her lips

"I know you will"

There was a moment of silence, and Cait almost thought she'd lost contact, when Hawke spoke again.

"Cait? ...Thanks. For everything"

Cait warmed at his open display of gratitude.

"Anytime." She replied. "Oh and guys? Wherever it is your going...Please be careful"

"We will. Hawke out."

"Out" Cait murmured as she replaced the receiver. Deciding that worrying about them would do her no good, she grabbed her bag and keys and hurried out to her car, hoping she'd make it through the early evening Californian traffic, in time for Le's game.

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

"Well, I've got to hand it to Archangel. He's sure pulled out all the stops on this one" Dominic mused from the engineers console of Airwolf. "Hey, String! You really think this guy could be a mole?"

It was only when he was met with a stony silence, Dominic realised he'd been talking to himself for the entire flight.

"Earth to String!"

Hawke glanced over his shoulder at the older man, and through the open visor, Dom could see Hawke's familiar, perpetual scowl.

"I heard you the first time, Dom" Hawke responded gruffly as he turned his attention back to the sky.

"Ok, out with it" Dom demanded, a frown creasing his brow.

"Out with what?"

"Whatever it is that's got you so antsy"

"Antsy? That's not a word"

"Don't change the subject" Dom admonished.

Hawkes scowl slowly faded, and was replaced by the impassive mask he usually wore.

A sigh crackled through the headset

"It's nothing"

" Well it's obviously something ...Is it Cait? Have you upset her?" Dominic frowned, fully aware of Hawkes propensity to bicker with the red headed pilot.

"No" Hawke bit out defensively. He glanced over his shoulder and shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Why? Did she say something?"

"No" Dom replied cheerily "but you might as well tell me and get it over with."

Hawke scowled and turned his eyes back to the sky.

"I was thinking about Le's soccer game"

"It couldn't be helped, String" Dom replied softly. "Le knows that. He's a pretty smart kid."

"Yeah"

"And besides, Caitlin's there" Dom continued, smiling slightly at Hawkes understated agreement. "You'll make it up to them"

"I made that kid a promise, Dom" Hawke replied, his blue eyes glazing over "and I gotta find some way of keeping it"

Dom nodded

"You will"

Hawke retreated into silence as they flew the rest of the way to Pennsylvania. If he was honest, it wasn't just his broken promise that was bothering him. He had no idea what he would've done without Caits help these last few weeks, and her willingness to step in when he couldn't be around, like attending Le's karate tournament last week, and his soccer game this afternoon, and had done it all without a single complaint. He had to find someway of paying her back, letting her know he appreciated everything she'd done for him and Le. He thought back to the first time he'd met her, saving her from Bogards goons in Pope County, Texas. He'd fallen instantly in- like with her.. He admired her feistiness, her dermination to do what was right, and she could certainly handle herself, accomplished in hand to hand, and had saved his life on more than one ocassion.

When she'd showed up at Santini Air, instead of pushing her away like he did to everyone he loved, or might love, he drew her deeper into his circle, even training her in Airwolf.

'That was to get Michael out of East Berlin ' he'd told himself over and over. He and Dom had both been injured in a stunt, and were forced to bring Cait onto the team in order to get him out. She'd slipped easily into his life, like she'd always been there, and wormed her way past the defences he'd spent years building around his fragile heart.

'Maybe she'd settle for dinner and a weekend at the cabin'

Hawke thought to himself as he adjusted Airwolfs course.

Dominic's voice through the headset roused Hawke from his thoughts

"We're coming up on the warehouse now, String"

"Raise our IR suppressant" Hawke barked almost robotically. "Run a scan for any signs of life down there"

"Scanning"

Dominic studied the matrix scanner as Hawke brought Airwolf in a full circle around the warehouse.

"Nothing down there, String. It's deserted"

A feeling of unease suddenly washed over Hawke as he pulled on the cyclic and Airwolf rose magestically above the trees.

His sixth sense for danger had saved his life more than once, and this was no exception. He had the distinct feeling they were flying straight into an ambush, and there was no option but to play it all out.

"I don't buy it" Hawke muttered "Lets set this thing down in those trees over there. I'm going in on foot."

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

Hawke tightened his grip on his gun as he peered around the stack of upturned crates that littered one corner of the warehouse. The sense of unease still hadn't dissipated, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to make out any signs of movement, any shapes, shadows, hidden within the murky darkness.

Suddenly, his eyes widened as his gaze alighted on the far corner of the warehouse. Gripping his gun with both hands, and training it in the direction of his gaze, Hawke crouched down low and stealthily ran across to what had caught his attention.

His stomach swooped as he looked down at the two bodies splayed out on the floor, arms and legs tangled as if they'd been dumped there. He knew instantly they were dead, they'd been shot cleanly through the forehead. Icy blue eyes stared down into cold, flint grey , his eyes were open but unseeing. Hawke lowered his gun and hung his head as he realised this was two thirds of Michaels tactical assault team. They'd arrived too late. His stomach churned at the thought that this could be Dominic or Caitlin... Next time, he could be too late to save them... He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He had a job to do.

"Well, their troubles are over" he thought to himself, as he gently closed the dead agents eyes for the last time.

A covered heap, laying face down in the far corner caught Hawkes eye, and he was over in a flash, grabbing a handful of Kevlar vest and hauling the prone agent a few inches off the floor.

Laura's brother.

"Dammit!" Hawke cursed, lowering the dead agent back to the floor. He swiped his mouth with the sleeve of his Airwolf uniform and surveyed the devastating loss of life in front of him. Whatever they'd discovered, it had ultimately cost them their lives. Whoever was responsible for the death of these men, Hawke would make them pay. That was one promise he could keep.

"String!"

From the safety of Airwolf, nestled within the trees, Dominic's voice thundered through the warehouse

"You've got company! Five bandits entering the warehouse back entrance! They came from nowhere! Get outta there, String! And make it snappy!"

No sooner had Dom finished, a shot rang out from the back of the warehouse. Hawke ducked as the bullet zinged past, mere inches from his temple. Hawke hit the floor and rolled behind a tower of packing crates, scrabbling with his feet to press his back up against the plastic that covered the crates.

Slowly he peered round, listening for any sound that would give away their location. Suddenly, he caught a flash of movement, he aimed his gun and fired,revelling in the satisfying thud that followed.

Hawke crept out from his hiding place, and made his way down the aisle, his sharp eyes darting into every corner and crevace that a man could possibly hide.

Suddenly , Hawke dived behind a metal shelving unit just as a crack sounded from somewhere to his right. The bullet hit the metal he was using as cover and riccoched harmlessly away. Hawke's jaw tensed as a small sound teased the edge of his hearing and he whirled around, ducking a flailing fist and punching his own into the iron stomach of the burly guy that had attempted to to sneak up unawares.

It barely had any effect.. The guy groaned, and Hawke was rewarded with a right hook to the side of his jaw. Stunned, Hawke staggered backwards, his body slamming into the cold, hard metal of the unit. Ignoring the pain rippling through his side, Hawke quickly regained his feet as the guy approached, and using all of the strength he still possessed, Hawke jumped and delivered a roundhouse kick to his chest, sending him barreling backwards into the wall. He wasn't quick enough to recover as Hawke slammed the handle of his gun onto the back of the guys head , killing him instantly.

Hawke's chest heaved with the exertion, and as he stared down at Cullens henchman, he slipped his hand over his injured ribs, feeling the pain of every single breath he took.

"Dom! " he spluttered into the handheld coms device "Dom! Come in-"

Hawke ducked as another shot rang out, and his eyes widened as a body sailed down from the mezzanine above, landing in a crumpled heap at his feet.

Hawkes eyes snapped up to the upper level, just in time to see a flash of black disappear through a service door

Taking another painful breath, Hawke groaned

"You got to be kidding me!"

His hand still protecting his ribs, Hawke half limped over to a spiral stairwell and soon found himself on the mezzanine. He swallowed hard as he stood in the place the man had fallen. He'd had a clean shot.

Hawke turned and headed towards the open door, his fingers curling tightly around the handle of his gun.

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

Hawke slid through the gap in the open door and found himself in some sort of boiler room, with a myriad of pipes zigzagging up the wall and intertwining across the ceiling. Hawke held his gun firmly out in front of him and inched his way forward, stepping over a metal pipe that was raised slightly off the floor. A movement caught his eye, and his raised his gun as a figure slipped from the shadows and disappeared behind the opposite wall.

'Tricky' Hawke thought to himself. Suddenly, the figure made a run for it and Hawke got off a shot, which riccoched of a pipe on the ceiling and embedded itself in the wall. Despite the pain, Hawke broke into a run, leaping off a small platform and landing on his desired target. Hawke grunted as they landed in a heap on the floor, and in one swift movement he grabbed the guys gun and pushed himself to his feet, his own gun trained on the man that had eluded him. Their eyes met, and held, seemingly each one agreeing to the terms of war that currently presented itself.

"Woah, woah. Easy" the guy said as he slowly raised his hands.

"I'm on your side, man!"

Hawke took in his attire.. He sure didn't look like one of Cullen's men. He wore a plain black T Shirt and jeans, and it was obvious he worked out, but it was his marksmanship that had piqued Hawke's interest. He'd taken that guy out with a single shot, without drawing fire, or even being seen. That took skill. Hawke had a niggling feeling that he was more than just a FIRM mole. His green eyes were honest, and Hawke wasn't one to trust easily. Whether he liked it or not, this man had saved his life.

"Hands behind your neck!" Hawke bit out, holding his gun firmly out in front of him.

He did as he was told and chuckled to himself.

"Your file was right. You sure don't trust that easily, Stringfellow Hawke"

Dumbfounded, Hawke took a step back and tightened his grip on his gun.

"Who the hell are you?!" He demanded "and why are you trying to kill me"

A smile graced the strangers young, handsome features

"Hey, buddy. As I remember it, you were the one doin' the shooting."

Hawke raised his gun again, aiming straight for his forehead

"Last chance. Who are you?" Hawke scowled, his finger hovering over the trigger "before I send you straight to hell!"

"Ryan O'Connor.. FBI" he replied quickly. With his hands still in the air, he nodded towards his jeans pocket. Hawke crouched down and rifled through the mans pocket and found what he was looking for. Government ID. Special Agent Ryan O' Connor, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Hawke tossed the black wallet at his feet and took another step back.

"What the hell do the FBI want with Cullen and his goons?"Hawke asked, growing even more confused as to whether he'd just walked into an ambush, or just traded one of his nine lives. Still on the floor, O'Connor moved, beginning to lower his hands.

" Jeez!" He exclaimed, as Hawke stance stiffened, and thrust his pistol towards the agent. Accepting he'd have to play this out on Hawkes terms, O' Connor raised his hands and rolled his eyes.

"Same as you." His green eyes narrowed as his fingers automatically curled into a fist

"I'm after the asshole that killed my best friend"

His eyes snapped up to Hawke

"Captain John Burns. " he paused. "Laura's brother"

Hawke's head swivelled over his shoulder, remembering the fallen agents back in the warehouse, and almost instantly, a comprehension slammed into him like a freight train.

Hawkes blue eyes narrowed on the young man in front of him.

"Michael sent you?"

The agents expression didn't deny or confirm the accusation, but the vision of the man sailing down from the mezzanine decided in Hawkes mind that Michael definitely had a lot of explaining to do. The unease that seemed to have taken up permanent residence, slowly began to evaporate.

"How do I know you're on the level" Hawke asked, his gun still firmly pointed at O'Connor.

O' Connor had finally run out of patience, and scrambled to his feet, indifferent as to whether Hawke shot him or not.

"Don't you think I could've taken you out back there, while you were busy playing Jackie Chan?"

Hawke lowered his gun and a cocky smile surfaced on the young mans face

"I am a pretty good shot. I never miss"

Finally, Hawke relented and stowed his gun away, allowing the beleaguered agent to stand.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Enough.

A burgeoning sense of worry encompassed Caitlin O' Shannessy as her familiar gait strode across the vast grassed football pitches at the rear of the Nuys Academy. They truly were impressive, five magnificent pitches..all a luscious shade of green, set side by side in seven sprawling acres of land that the Academy boasted. The last two, marked out for football, were home to top of the high school league team, Van Nuys Academy. It still never failed to send her mind into a spin about the amount of money String paid termly, to keep Le at the most exclusive school in LA.

She'd befriended a few of the mothers, Elena's husband was a wealthy stockbroker, and with no need to work, she spent her days at every beauty salon and gym, LA had to offer. Miranda was a top defence attorney , and her husband Joel was a plastic surgeon for the rich and famous, a world away from Santini Air and her job as a pilot. To say she felt out of place would be an understatement, yet Ethan and Adam were two of Le's best friends, and Elena's and Miranda had been nothing but welcoming towards her, not even questioning her unusual and complicated relationship she had with Le and his uncle. String was his usual evasive self about the subject of school fees, but he'd let it let it slip one night after a particularly tough mission, and the consumption of several glasses of hideously expensive Chardonnay. He wanted the best for his nephew and who was she to stand in the way.

The early evening breeze had a nip to it, and as the chill began to penetrate the sleeves of her blouse, she pulled her padded jacket tightly around her narrow shoulders.

Her thoughts drifted to Hawke and Dom as she edged her way down the aisle of blue plastic seating, muttering her apologies as she forced the myriad of moms, dads and grandparents that currently occupied the seating area, to stand. She finally reached an empty seat and sunk her weary body onto the uncomfortably hard plastic. She couldn't help her anxiety over the mission the guys had accepted. To take off like they did, not even bothering to tidy the hangar before they left, bothered her more than she cared to admit. It was obviously urgent.

Sure, she knew they could take care of themselves, but she knew better than anybody, one day they might not come back. As she'd grown increasingly closer to Hawke and Le Van over the last few weeks, her anxiety had almost tripled, especially since that, most of the time, they'd left her behind to take care of Le.

The dreams disturbed her the most. Vivid and hauntingly real, every time she closed her eyes at night, she had visions of Airwolf under fire from a sky full of MIGS, ploughing headlong into the side of a mountain. Hawke gunned down in front of her eyes on the simplest of missions.

Gone.

Taken from her before she'd had the chance to love him completely .

Before she'd had the chance to tell him how she felt, even though she knew the feelings weren't reciprocated.

Of course she'd had the merest of signs- A look, a roughly spoken word, the slightest of touches to convince her otherwise, but as soon as they'd appeared, they vanished, as he retreated back into the realms of friendship. His safety net. So much so, that she wondered if it had all been a figment of her imagination. Her sister had always told her if you want something bad enough, then you eventually convince yourself it's true. But she was content with what she had, being a part of Strings life as a friend, part of his family and flying Airwolf.

That was enough.

If she pushed, it would only drive the enigmatic pilot further away. Stringfellow Hawke didn't trust easily, and she truly felt privileged to be included so completely in his life.

But she still couldn't reconcile with the fact that this might be it. One day, they might not come back.

'But not today' she told herself, as a small smile surfaced at the sight of Le in an oversized red and yellow striped jersey, jogging towards the half way line. As long as they stuck by him, String would always have something to come back to.

From across the pitch, Le's dark gaze caught Caits, and she waved enthusiastically in the boys direction. The wide smile slipped from his face as he quickly realised Cait was alone, and his eyes snapped back towards the school, expecting Hawke to walk through the gates at any minute. Caits own smile faded and her heart ached for yet another broken promise.

With a quick glance over his shoulder at his coach, Le jogged across to where Cait sat.

"Cait, you made it!" Le exclaimed, as the red headed pilot enveloped him in a hug. Le quickly wriggled free from her arms, and cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder to make sure none of his team mates had seen the open display of affection. It just wasn't cool.

"Sure I did" Cait smiled, amused at Le's embarrassment. " I wouldn't miss it"

" Where's Uncle String?" Le asked, his eyes dropping to the floor. "He promised he'd come"

His statement was met with silence, and for once in her life, Cait was truly lost for words.

Suddenly, acutely aware of all the other parents around, Cait squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

" Somethin' came up" she replied, regretfully " Le, I'm sorry"

Le 's expression hardened, a mirror image of his uncles own impassive mask. He shook his head

" Don't be sorry. It's not your fault he broke a promise"

Le bent down and tugged his maroon and yellow soccer socks up to his knees, not wanting Cait to see the tears that pricked at the corner of his eyes.

" You better get back" Cait told him, nodding her head towards his teammates "And how about we get a soda and pizza after, huh?"

Le managed a small smile and nodded.

"It's a deal"

Cait watched as Le jogged back over to his teammates, and a small sigh escaped her lips. Le was getting almost as good as his uncle at hiding his feelings, but she knew him well enough to know he was hurt.

"Hey! Hawke!"

Le glanced round and rolled his eyes as Billy Jackson trotted the few yards that separated them and appeared by his side. Le knew from experience that Billy Jackson rarely had a kind word to say.

"What d'ya want, Billy?" Le asked with a sigh and Billy nodded across the other side of the pitch

"That your mom?"

Le frowned at his teammate

"What? No!" He replied incredulously."She's a friend of my Uncle's"

"Your Aunt?" Billy asked, his green eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Shut up, Billy" Le warned, squaring his shoulders and taking a step closer to his adversary. Billy grinned and backed off, knowing full well Le Van Hawkes proficiency in the martial arts. His gaze travelled back across the pitch, to where the red head wriggled herself into her seat. His grin widened and he nodded in open appreciation.

"She's hot!"

Le's dark eyes narrowed as he levelled a glare on his team mate.

"You're such a jerk" Le muttered as he pushed past him and made his way back over to the striped jerseys that were huddled together in the middle of the pitch.

"Say that again, Chicken Hawke!" Billy yelled at Le's retreating form. Without breaking stride, Le turned and cupped his hands round his lips.

"JERK!"

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

In the dank, darkness of the warehouse, Ryan O'Connor slowly crouched down beside the lifeless body of his childhood friend, John Burns.

"I was right there" The agent said with a hoarse whisper. "He gave himself up to protect his men. 'Lotta good that did him" he snorted, his gaze alighting on the other two dead operatives.

String rolled back his shoulders and his roughly spoken words echoed round the warehouse.

"He did what he had to do"

Draping a muscular arm across his knee, O'Connor hung his head and nodded.

"Yeah. I guess he did"

Pushing himself to his feet, O'Connor turned and levelled his gaze on Hawke.

Hawke glanced down at his outstretched hand, and the agent almost winced at the icy blast that met his hazel eyes.

"What?"

"My piece?" O'Connor replied, raising an eyebrow "Or do I still need to convince you that I'm not out to put you in the ground?"

Hawke almost smiled at the rejoinder and reached for O'Connor's gun stowed in the belt of the lilac flight suit. This man intrigued him, and his presence there was more than a coincidence. But what he hadn't quite figured out, was if this man had his own agenda or he really was, as he claimed, on Hawkes side.

"'Til I figure out just what's goin' on here"Hawke gestured with his arm, encompassing the whole room "you give me ANY, just one reason to doubt you, you're as good as dead"

"Wow!" O'Connor replied, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin "You always this intense?"

The agent snatched his gun from Hawkes grasp and meticulously racked the chamber and stowed it safely away in the waistband of his jeans.

O'Connor room a step forward and hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at his fallen comrades. Tears of sadness pricked at the corner of his eyes, as memories of the blistering heat of the jungles and almost freezing to death in the arctic permeated his mind. They had been the elite, Navy Seals, and John Burns had been by his side through it all. He owed the man his life. The mission was simple, and never should've gone down the way it had been planned down to the last intricate detail, Burns and his men would go in first, sterilise the location and he would follow and take possession of the consignment. His gaze hardened as visions of his best friend and two of the best men the CIA and US military had to offer, decorated officers, expert tacticians, walked headlong into a trap. Executed in front of his own eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it, without giving away his own position. Burns had once again saved his life, this time, with the ultimate sacrifice. Hawke showing up when he did had changed things, sow,thing he hadn't planned for, he assumed he'd have more time. The warnings he'd received had proved to be correct. You could never be truly ready for a man like Stringfellow Hawke. The tears that threatened slowly dissipated, and were replaced by a new determination in his honest, green eyes. If nothing else, Hawke could prove to be a valuable asset in bringing his friends murderers to justice. It was clear Hawke didn't trust easily, and he was certainly already suspicious of his presence there. He almost smiled. He'd always thrived on a challenge. Taking a deep breath, O'Connor turned his gaze back to the pilot.

"I don't know 'bout you, but I'm kinda ready to get out of this place" O'Connor mused, wrinkling his nose at the damp, foul smelling air that teased his nostrils. O'Connor brushed past Hawke, using his shoulder as leverage and made his way towards the half open door. Only the monotonous drip, drip, drip from a leak in the ceiling filled the silence that had opened like a the pilot didn't follow, O'Connor hesitated with his palm against the door and swivelled back on his heel, deep, well worn lines creasing his young brow.

"Hawke?"

Hawke's hand slid to his side as he took a tentative step forward, his injured ribs protesting at the extertion. For a split second, it felt as though he'd been hit by a semi. The pain rippled through his side causing every last breath he had to seemingly evaporate from his body. As he fought to catch his breath, he was unable to smother the small groan that emanated from deep at the base of his throat.

"Man, are you hurt?"

Standing up as straight as his bruised ribs would allow, Hawke quickly gathered himself and fixed the agent with a steely glare.

"I'm okay" Hawke bit out, stalking past O'Connor towards the door.

Hawke wasn't quite sure what clued him in first; the shadow that suddenly filled the gap between the floor and the door, the slightest of sounds from the other side, but in a flash Hawke drew his gun from the holster and aimed it squarely at rippled wood of the door. Glancing across at O'Connor, Hawkes blue eyes widened in surprise as he saw the agent had done the same, his hands strong and sure around his weapon, his stance mirroring his own.

"Listen" Hawke murmured, so only the agent could hear " I don't know why you're here, or who sent you, but I don't believe in coincidences"

Their eyes remained focussed on the door.

"Hey Hawke, why don't you really say what's on your mind" O'Connor replied, half jokingly " I know a real good shrink that could help with that paranoia of yours"

"It's what's kept me alive "

"Until now"

Hawke tore his gaze away from the door and scowled at the younger man.

"I know you had my back, back there, but what I don't understand is, why?"

O'Connor rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on his gun.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, don't look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it means, Hawke. There's no conspiracy here. I'm not after that monster machine of yours.."

Hawkes head whipped round, pinning the young agent with a glacial stare.

O'Connors gaze met his, their stance never waivering, their guns trained on the door.

"Yeah, I know" O' Connor replied with a nod, " but I like to keep my feet firmly on the ground, so your Lady's safe"

Hawke resisted the urge to smile. Despite the cocky, self assured, macho bravado, if he didn't know better, Special Agent Ryan O'Connor had a fear of flying.

"But if you wanna get outta here alive, you're gonna have to trust me, huh?"

Hawke's eyes narrowed

"I take care of myself"

"Hawke, tell me" O'Connor said, taking a step towards the door " What's the first rule they teach you in combat?"

"You don't do anything all by yourself" he muttered, echoing the same words he'd said to his friend Minh, well over a year ago.

"Exactly. And you're in no shape to be playing the hero"

No sooner as he finished his speech, Ryan O' Connor fired his gun, prompting several bullets to spatte against the door on the other side in retaliation.

Hawke and O' Connor whirled around and pressed their backs against the door, guns pulled closely to their chests as they slid to the floor. Hawke glanced over at the agent, his eyes icing over.

"Hold that thought"


	7. Chapter 7

Caitlin O'Shannessy shifted uncomfortably on the plastic seat and shivered slightly as the evening breeze began to penetrate the sleeves of her thin jacket.

'You think with the amount they charge for school fees, they'd got seats a little less uncomfortable" she groused silently to herself, as wished for the umpteenth time she'd brought the warm padded jacket, currently hanging on the peg back at the hangar. A shout from across the field, tore her attention back to the game. Caits green eyes widened as Le slide tackled an opponent and regained his footing with intricate poise. He nutmegged a second, his slight stature giving him the advantage of speed to take him cleanly past his opponent. Shouts of encouragement from his coach and teammates filled the air, as the opposing coach waved his arms wildly above his head, motioning for someone, anyone to stop this kid. Cait held her breath and slid to the edge of her seat as a tall, robust defender nicknamed 'the Tank' barrelled towards him. Cait squeezed her eyes closed as she waited for the inevitable collision, and she was sure being half his size, Le would certainly come off worse. Slowly, she opened one eye and stole a peek at the action. Her other eye snapped open as Le jinked the ball past 'The Tank' with relative ease, leaving the hulk of a defender rooted to the spot.

"Ha! Take That!" Cait yelled, punching the air with a balled fist "Come on Le!" She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, as she suddenly realised here she was, a Soccer Mom, yelling from the touch line.

"Ah what the heck! Come on Le!" She yelled as Le sprinted towards the on rushing goalkeeper. "Shoot!"

What happened next, was almost in slow motion as she clasped her hands together in silent prayer. The giant scoreboard at one end of the pitch counted down the dying seconds of the game right next to the score between Van Nuys and Philadelphia Central-0-0.

Cait watched as Le steadied himself , shifted his weight and deftly chipped the ball over the goalkeeper. His arms fell to his side as he stood on the spot with his teammates, watching the ball spin and weave it's way in the air towards the goal. Everyone in the stands held the breath as the goalkeeper scrambled frantically back towards the goal, slipping on rain moistened grass as he went. It wasn't enough. The home crowd erupted as the ball spun into the net along with the forlorn goalkeeper, and Le spun on his heel, his arms triumphantly aloft as he was quickly buried beneath a blanket of yellow and maroon striped shirts. Cait leapt out of her seat with a whoop of joy, clapping enthusiastically as the final whistle signalled the end of the game and a victory for the Van Nuys Academy.

A sense of warmth encompassed her as she saw the looks of sheer joy on the kids faces, and couldn't help but smile as Le was hoisted onto his friend Billy's shoulders as the celebrations continued. He was growing up so fast and her heart ached to think that Hawke was missing out on all of it. She felt an intruder, moments like these belonged to Hawke and she had no place to take it all from him. She needed to talk to Hawke, and sooner rather than later.

"He's very talented"

A voice beside her jolted her out of her reverie

"Excuse me?" She asked, her gaze sliding to the owner of the voice

"I said, the kids talented"

The initial euphoria had dissipated, and Cait's eyes drank in the sight of the man sitting beside her. Her breath hitched as her gaze travelled over his chiseled, lightly stubbled jawline, across his broad shoulders and slowly down towards his tanned, muscular biceps. His deep, chocolate eyes gleamed with amusement and mischief, and a small smile tugged at the the sleek lines of his lips. For a moment, Caitlin was entranced.

"Yo?! Anyone there?" He grinned, dipping his head slightly so he could meet her eyes.

"Wh-what? Who's there?" Cait stuttered, finally managing to formulate something resembling a sentence.

The guy chuckled and shook his head.

"I was saying Le is very talented" he repeated for the third time. Finally regaining some sense of composure, a smile surfaced at the mention of Le.

"Oh ho, sure he is. Well I think so anyway, but I am kinda biased" she added with a shrug.

"Family?" He inquired, shoving his strong, firm hands into the pocket of his track suit top. Caitlin took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

""Yeah." She said immediately, as a frown suddenly creased her brow. "Well, sorta, kinda..."

Family. One single word was all it took to define her relationship with String. She was the kid sister he never had and a trusted friend. However much you tagged or labelled their relationship, Cait wanted, needed more. She wanted to me more than just good ol' , reliable Cait who's a handy chopper pilot to have around. She wanted something meaningful, for someone to love her like she deserved. Being content was no longer enough.

"Kinda? By the way you were jumping up and down earlier, I assumed you were"

"Oh. Yeah, that" Cait smiled sheepishly, feeling the heat begin to rise in her cheeks. "I'm just a friend. That's all"

Her voice trailed away as she felt a sudden, urgent need to crawl inside of her own skin.

"Well, does this friend have a name?" He asked, his gaze settling on the pilot.

"Caitlin O' Shannessy" she replied a little too quickly, and more business like than she would've liked. She mentally cursed herself. It sounded like she was arranging a charter at Santini Air rather than meeting someone new for the first time. Maybe it was time for an extended vacation.

"Well, Caitlin O'Shannessy it's nice to finally meet you" he replied, extending a hand "I'm Jack Stone. Le's soccer coach"

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW


	8. Chapter 8

Special Agent O'Connor and Hawke crouched side by side on the damp, concrete floor. Hawke's head rested lightly against the door, his eyes closed as he attempted to shift the continuous throb that irritated his left temple. The pain in his injured ribs had diminished to a dull ache, and he ran the events of the last few hours over again in his mind. He had so many questions that remained unanswered. Why did Archangel send O'Connor? What was his true purpose for helping him? Who murdered the Special Ops team, lying only a few feet away? It was a professional job, the men had been executed. In Hawkes mind he knew Cullens men could not have been responsible. The team were the elite, trained in stealth operations and although he'd taken a hit, Hawke hadn't had much of a problem in taking out one of Cullens men. Neither had O'Connor. The nagging doubt and suspicion turned the dull ache into a throb as the realisation slammed into Hawke like an express train. It was a professional hit by the United States Government.

""So, you got a plan?"

Hawke opened his eyes at O'Connors voice, and turned his head slightly to look at the Agent

"Or are we just gonna sit here all day?"

O'Connor raised an eyebrow at Hawkes momentary silence.

"Maybe" Hawke replied, as he lifted his head away from the door.

"Maybe" O'Connor muttered, nodding his head in a stunned disbelief.

"Well, would you care to let me in on your little master plan?" He asked, gesturing vaguely with his gun "Or have I gotta guess?"

Hawke glared at the young agent, but said nothing. Turning his attention back to their current predicament, he swiftly adjusted his feet, and raised himself a few inches until his fingertips could just about reach the door handle.

"Jeez, Hawke. You really oughta try talking to people sometime" O'Connor mused, unable to prevent the teasing smile that played across his face. "You know, I really am quite interesting"

Hawke silently opened the door, a peered through the sliver of an opening into the room beyond.

"I'll bear it in mind"

Hawke turned and looked at his companion

"You ready?"

O'Connors eyes widened as his gaze slid from Hawke to the door.

"We're going through the door? Uh uh" O'Connor replied, shaking his head vigorously. "Not unless you wanna end up looking like Swiss cheese! That-"

O'Connors gaze shifted upwards, and he pointed his gun towards a small skylight in the ceiling "is our way out."

O'Connor looked back to the door, only to catch a glimpse of Hawke's retreating form through the open doorway.

"...Or we could use the door"

Gripping his gun tightly, O' Connor sprinted through the door and ducked instinctively as a bullet riccoched of a shelving unit millimetres above his head prompting the agent to change direction. Another shot rang out in the darkness and he darted around the corner, throwing himself against the nearest wall. Slowly, he peered round, careful not to give away his location.

"Man, if you're gonna do that, at least warn me next time, huh?!"

O'Connor whispered, watching the two men stalking down the aisle intently.

"I did." Came the gruff reply from the opposite wall "You were too slow"

In the cover of darkness, Hawke allowed himself a smile at the Agents flicker of movement, a tense of the shoulders so slight that if he hadn't been watching for it, he would've missed it. His gaze still trained on the two men inching towards them, O'Connor silently bristled at the insult.

"How many?" Hawke asked as O'Connor turned back to face him.

He held up two fingers, indicating that Hawke should take the one on the left, and with a nod of agreement, the two men sprung from their hiding place and Hawke got off a shot before the other man could even respond. Hawke watched as the man slumped to the floor, unmoving. Hawkes gaze snapped to his partner as he hit floor, rolling behind a stack of crates to evade the bullet that zero'd in on its target. The second man, evidently more accomplished than his companion, had found his mark, sending O'Connor barrelling into the cold, concrete wall. In one swift movement O'Connor found his feet, and ignoring the blossoming red stain seeping through the sleeve of his t shirt, he trained his gun, firm and sure, on the advancing enemy. For a brief moment their eyes met, and all the anger and pain for his lost friends bludgeoned it's way to the surface. O'Connor pulled the trigger.

It was over.

A blissful silence filled the warehouse as O'Connor slowly lowered his gun, grimacing slightly at the searing pain in his shoulder that simple movement evoked. He cast a weary glance at Hawke who appeared beside him, replacing his gun in its holster.

"You should get to a hospital" Hawke said matter of factly, finally breaking the silence as he nodded towards the Agents injured shoulder.

O'Connor shook his head

"It's just a flesh wound. I'm fine" he insisted, stowing his gun in the waistband of his jeans. He met Hawke's gaze. " I've had a lot worse"

Hawke almost smiled at his admission, reminding himself that he would probably do the same.

"Let's go home" O' Connor replied, the devastatingly cocky smile returning to his face. He slapped Hawke on the shoulder and stepped over the two lifeless bodies that lay on the floor and made his way to the invitingly open front door.

"You know, we really need to work on your communication skills" O'Connor began, oblivious to the perpetual scowl plastered across Hawkes face. He stopped at turned to face the pilot.

"With a little work, we could make a really good team-"

Hawke never got the chance to respond with the 'No' that teased his lips.

A hot, intense orange glow flashed before their eyes instantly blinding them, as an explosion ripped through the entire frame of the building. Hawke felt his body slam into something very hard, and very solid and groaned in pain as he landed with the full force of his weight on his already injured ribs. Summoning all the energy he still possessed, Hawke lifted his head and became vaguely aware of the blurry outlines of several armed men swarming in like a plague through the open door.

"O'Connor?" He spluttered weakly, running his hands over the gravel and tentatively pushing himself to his knees. As more armed men filtered through the entrance, he was grateful for the irony as the explosion had dislodged the false ceiling above their heads, temporarily concealing them from the army that continued to invade. When he got no reply, he crawled blindly across to a heap of debris on the opposite corner, as he willed his eyes to find some sort of focus.

"Ryan! " he repeated desperately, his own voice sounding as though he was a few hundred feet under water. Throwing off pieces of plaster from the agents prone form beneath the rubble, the intense heat from the fire raging around them and the putrid smell of burning, twisted metal filled his nostrils, spurred him on even faster, all the while, a well trained eye on the SWAT team that encircled the building like vultures after their prey.

A small groan emanated from beneath the last of the debris and grabbing hold of a dusty, muscular arm, Hawke pulled O'Connor free.

"You sure took your time" O'Connor choked, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor. Steadying himself on Hawkes arm, he pulled himself to his feet.

"We gotta go. Can you walk?" Hawke asked, glancing up towards the vacant exit.

"Hawke- " O'Connor replied, with an angry growl at the pain that encompassed his entire body "We're surrounded. We'll never make it. Give it up man, it's over"

Doubling over as the pain finally took hold, Ryan O' Connor slowly raised his eyes towards the light that filled the doorway. He'd never heard a sound like it before. An eerie, ghostly howl above the rooftops, that had the ensuing SWAT team doubling back towards the exit.

"What the hell is that?!" O'Connor asked as Hawke slung the agents arm over his shoulder. Hawke hesitated and caught O'Connors gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin

"Plan B"

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW

Hawke and O'Connor used every breath left in their body to drag themselves towards the door as the fire continued to rage around them, the red hot flames licking at the walls and floor. The ceiling above them creaked ominously.

"You think we can move a little faster?" O'Connor heaved, as the two men finally reached he door. "'Cos I'm about ready to check out of this dump-"

The two men hesitated in the frame of the doorway as the sound of rapid gunfire and panicked cries filled the night air, as though a small army had invaded the deserted warehouse.

O'Connor swayed unsteadily on his feet, and his eyes lacked focus as he grabbed hold of the strong arm that currently prevented him from falling into a heap on the floor.

"Woah, Easy-" Hawke replied, tightening his grip on the Agents arm, and was suddenly perturbed by the feeling of protectiveness that washed over him like a tidal wave. Memories, of his childhood, flashed before his eyes. Of him and St John- No. Of a boy, a young infant, with dark brown hair, a chocolate brown Labrador outside a house with a white picket fence, a red station wagon...

Another blood curdling scream brought Hawke back to reality, and judging by their current predicament, he knew the odds were stacked against them. If he didn't get O'Connor to a hospital soon, he'd have the death of a Federal Agent on his hands.

Slowly, O'Connor raised his head to meets Hawke's icy blue gaze with blurred, unfocused eyes, and offered the pilot a weak, fading smile.

"You got an Army out there, or somethin'? Cos we ain't gettin' outta here without one"

Hawke quickly ducked his head as another explosion rippled through the warehouse, and against his better judgement, he found himself returning the Agents smile.

"Or something"

Hawke and O'Connor half limped, half sprinted out into the freezing night, their heavy, laboured breaths creating plumes of vapour in the air as they ran. Taking cover behind an abandoned pile of stacking crates, Hawke silently thanked God for small mercies- The SWAT team hadn't seen them.

" What's goin' on?" O'Connor shouted, above the hail of stray bullets that embedded themselves in the concrete wall a few millimetres above their heads.

As the two men crouched behind the crates, as low as their bruised and battered bodies would allow, Hawke lifted his head towards the sky, his usually guarded blue eyes filled with desperation and worry.

"C'mon Dom!"


	9. Chapter 9

Stringfellow Hawke tightened his grip on his pistol and peeked through a small gap in the crates. The SWAT team Commander was issuing orders animatedly to his men, initiating what Hawke quickly realised to be a military, tactical manoeuvre, designed to locate and quickly eliminate the enemy.

Hawke watched the team intently as they all fanned out in different directions, all the while, waiting for any gap, any sniff of an opportunity to escape undetected.

Hawke shifted position and winced in pain as his injured ribs protested at the simple movement. There was no way even alone , in his condition, he could out run the SWAT team, and O'Connor hadn't moved since he'd fallen behind the crates. Any sliver of hope, was slowly ebbing away.

"What's goin' on Hawke?" O'Connor asked weakly, shifting himself so he was sat half upright with his back against the crates. "Talk to me, man"

Hawke glanced down at his companion, the blossoming, dark red stain on his shoulder growing larger with every passing minute. His breathing was laboured, and the ghostly pallor of the Agents skin told Hawke he was quickly running out of time.

"We're surrounded" Hawke replied succinctly, turning his attention back to the SWAT team. Swallowing the lump that had already formed in his throat, Hawke hesitated before he spoke, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Can you move?"

O'Connor managed a faint smile as his eyelids slowly grew heavy.

"Hawke, if you tell me there's a tank out there loaded for bear, I'll crawl on my hands and knees if I have to"

O'Connor snorted with laughter at the irony of his own joke, and suddenly enveloped his arms around his stomach, as his laughter quickly turned into a painful, spluttering cough. Hawke's gaze once again shifted to O'Connor as the Agents head lolled ominously sideways.

"O'Connor!" Hawke growled, as O'Connor's lifeless body slid to the ground.

"I'm Okay! I'm Okay!" O'Connor breathed as his eyes snapped open, and with the last of the energy he still possessed, he heaved himself back to a seated position. He ignored the pain of the gravel tearing at the skin on the palms of his hands, oblivious to the warm, red liquid, slowly trickling down his forearms. He refused to give them the satisfaction.

"Y'know, Hawke. Before I came here, I went on my first date in almost a year"

Hawke frowned as he kept a well trained eye on the operative that slipped round the adjacent wall and trained his gun on the stack of crates.

"A cute little red head" O'Connor mused " She was so hot!"

He smiled at the memory.

Slowly lowering his gun, Hawke's arms fell to his side as he made a mental note, if by some miraculous turn of events, he got out of this alive, to keep O'Connor well away from Caitlin.. From his position on the ground, O'Connor rolled his eyes to look at the pilot.

"Anyone you gotta get back to, Hawke?"

With a quick glance over his shoulder at the advancing SWAT team, Hawke slid down beside the wounded Agent, draping the arm that held his weapon across his bent knee.

"We've all got someone to get back to" he answered, gesturing vaguely with his gun. "What happened?"

"She sold Life Insurance" O'Connor chuckled. "Thought I was too much of a liability"

One side of Hawke's lips twitched into a grin and a shout from the commanding officer drew Hawke's attention back to the SWAT Team.

"So, what's she like?"

Hawke's head whipped round.

"Who?" he responded with a trademark frown

"Your girl. What's she like?"

"I never said I had a girl"

"You don't say a lotta things " O'Connor replied, pinning Hawke with a stare with the last of the clarity left in his eyes "But you're more transparent than you think, Stringfellow Hawke"

Hawke opened his mouth to respond with a retort of denial, and was suddenly engulfed in a myriad of noise and flurry of activity.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

Hawke made a move towards the stricken Agent, throwing a fist towards an advancing operative, connecting satisfyingly with the side of his jaw.

"Sonofabitch!"

Hawke was rewarded well for his efforts, as the but of an AK47 slammed painfully into his already delicate ribcage, and could only watch as his own weapon danced agonisingly away from his grasp.

Hawke whirled around at O'Connor's harrowing cry, a sound akin to the ones he'd heard in the burning jungles of Vietnam. His mind willed his body to move as the Agents arms were wrenched forcibly behind his back.

His body didn't move, it couldn't.

He waited.

Waited for O'Connor to recover and send all of these dirty and bought operatives straight to Hell.

Waited for Dom and The Lady to come to his aid as they always did.

Waited for Cait to suddenly materialise in front of him, unleashing those devastating karate moves that had gotten him out of trouble on more than one occasion. Despite the fact he knew there was only one possible outcome to this scenario, he couldn't help but smile at the image of Caitlin's face that permeated his foggy mind.

If he died, here and now, Hawke only had two regrets. That he never got to see Caitlin O'Shannessy's captivating, beaming smile one last time and the fact he'd never told her, just what a beautiful person she truly was.

O'Connor's body remained hauntingly still, and finally succumbing to the searing pain in his side, Hawke crumpled to the floor. Several pairs of strong hands hauled the pilot from the ground and flung him face down, pinning his cheek to the cold, harsh gravel.

"Well,well,well. String-fellow Hawke" came a deep, seemingly familiar voice. Hawke squinted up at the looming figure, his broad frame blocking the last of the light from the solitary lamp. "Even paper heroes cant run forever"

Hawke's head snapped backwards as his jaw felt the full force of a military standard issue boot.

"Who the hell are you?" Hawke bit out, trying desperately to regain a sense of his surroundings. "And who sent you?"

"Ah, Mr Hawke, I think you already know the answer to that question"

The blurry figure indicated to the prone Agent, lying spread-eagled on the floor

"Put him out of his misery"

AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWA

Two of the men hauled O'Connor to his knees, and with all the last remaining energy left in his body, O' Connor slowly lifted his head to meet the flint grey eyes of his captor. Hawke noticed the shift in his eyes, the warmth he'd saw there earlier had been replaced with a cold, hard edge, a fierce determination to look his executioner straight in the eye. Hawke glanced at his gun laying a few feet away on the floor, and quickly calculated that as quick as his reactions were, if he made a move now, they'd both end up in the ground.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" O'Connor asked, buying Hawke a little time. "Why don't you just get it over with?"

Hawke shifted a little to his left.

"Whats the rush?" came the reply "I intend to enjoy this moment Agent O'Connor"

"What, like you did with my friends back there?" O' Connor spat, as Hawke shifted another few inches towards his gun "Or do you just get off on a being a little trigger happy?"

O'Connor chuckled to himself, acutely aware of the movement behind him as Hawke arrowed in on his errant weapon.

A low, dangerous rumble of laughter joined O'Connors

"Collateral damage, my friend. Whatever you may think, I am still an honourable man trying to protect his country"

"Honourable!" O'Connor snorted, as Hawke willed him to keep talking. He was within reaching distance of his gun, and he just had to wait for an opening, however slight, to make his move.

"You know what I think, Colonel Lynch?" O Connor asked, finally putting a name to the face "I think you're a coward.. And a murderer-" he paused briefly, observing the Colonel's burgeoning fury that he failed to suppress and silently congratulated himself.

The skill to push people to their limit had always been one of his finer character traits, or most infuriating, depending on which way you looked at it. It had cost him a few relationships over the years, he thought ruefully. The Colonel was no exception. He had him figured out from the very beginning, even when he was his commanding officer, and knew exactly what buttons to press and the subsequent reaction. The last five years of trying to take the murdering Colonel down had taught him that. But it had also saved his life more times than he could count, and had now provided the necessary distraction that Hawke needed to turn this whole sorry mess to their advantage. Sensing he was on a roll, O'Connor ploughed on.

"You don't deserve a single one of those medals on your chest. Those men in there-" O'Connor inclined his head towards the warehouse. "Were worth a hundred of you!"

"Enough!"

Hawke froze on the spot as the Colonels acid tongue silenced the Agent, and slowly, wanting to savour every second of his imminent victory, Lynch lowered his gun to O'Connor's temple.

"I think its time you and Captain Hawke joined your friends. I'm just sorry I wont be able to make your funeral. I'm sure you'll get a hero's send off"

"You kill me, and this place will be crawling with cops" O'Connor replied, using the Colonels momentary distraction to hook his foot around Hawke's gun, concealing it from the other operatives.

This time it was the Colonels turn to laugh

"You always did have a way with words, Lieutenant. But I think not. Now, prepare to join your friends-"

As Lynch's finger rested on the trigger, Hawke saw his opening and made his move. In one swift movement, he took the nearest Operative to the ground with a roundhouse kick, and barrelled unceremoniously into a second one that attempted to bring a premature halt to his plan. Landing on his weapon, he snatched it gratefully into his hands, sending a bullet straight into the shoulder of the Operative advancing on his injured partner. His hands still fastened behind his back, O'Connor took advantage of the only body part that still functioned, and rammed his head into the midriff of a bewildered Colonel Lynch, sending him crashing in a heap to the floor. O'Connor remained face down in the mud, motionless, and as Lynch fought to disentangle himself from the prone agent , a faint, ghost like sound teased the edge of his hearing, distracting him from his primary objective. It couldn't be. It simply wasn't possible.

Suddenly, all heads snapped to the darkened sky, as Airwolf careened from the sky like a bullet, screaming a challenge to those on the ground. With a new focus, the two men still on the ground forgotten, the team began their assault on this new, deadly threat. Lynch hadn't factored Airwolf into the equation. Hawke was on the ground, they had him cornered. There had been nothing in the intelligence he'd been given to suggest Dominic Santini was a second pilot. He hadn't even considered him an imminent threat to the operation. It was then and there Lynch came to the horrific conclusion this fact had been a deliberate omission. Now he had to fight his way out, just like 'Nam. Bullets chattered harmlessly off her armoured belly as Airwolf descended, creating a shield between her pilot and the SWAT team.

"C'mon String"

From his position in the Pilots seat, Dominic Santini muttered a prayer as he watched Hawke haul himself from the ground.

"Nice timing, Dom" Hawke groused, as he sprinted over to O'Connor and heaved the dead weight of his partner onto his already aching back.

The Operatives began to flee, as the fierce backwash from the rotors, rocked their jeep, marked with the familiar army camouflage, from side to side, flipping it on its roof as though it were no more than a playing card. Lynch watched in disbelief at his retreating Agents, and could do nothing but watch as Hawke climbed into the safety of Airwolf, and rose majestically from the ground, disappearing into into the shroud of darkness.

"What the hell happened, String?"

Dominic Santini's questioning gaze settled on Hawke as he gave O' Connor the once over, cataloguing every injury.

"Set up" Hawke replied succinctly, removing a piece of bloodied material from O' Connor's t-shirt to reveal a gaping bullet wound to the shoulder. Hawke almost smiled at O'Connor's understatement. Flesh wound, he said. Typical. For all the good it would do, Hawke applied firm pressure to his muscular shoulder.

"We were sold out"

Dom's eyes widened

"Isn't that our mole?"

"He's no mole! He's FBI" Hawke replied hotly.

The same sudden protectiveness he'd felt earlier mixed with a healthy dose of anger, suddenly encompassed him

"The same as there were no armour piercing weapons. Michaels stonewalling us Dom, and all I wanna know is, why"

His gaze returned to the stricken agent.

"Mr Clean? No, I don't believe it. I just don't" Dom returned, shaking his head at the implication. Hawke retreated into silence at Dom's words, not wanting to believe what was staring him straight in the face. The man that he'd made a deal with three years previously, the man he'd started to consider a friend had sent them straight into an ambush. Dom acquiesced to Hawke's familiar silence in an attempt to gather his own thoughts. If he was honest with himself, String's accusations had some merit. The information they'd been given had been sketchy at best, which wasn't like Michael to send them into a mission blind. He always demanded a thorough job before he risked Airwolf and its crew. Neither one of them had expected the arrival of the SWAT team, and it seemed that the erroneous information of a FIRM mole and fictitious weapons had them flying slap bang into an ambush. Michael sure had a lot of explaining to do. Someone had an ulterior motive, and Dom just didn't want to believe it was the man that had got them out of several sticky situations in the last three years. A man whose life they'd saved on more than one occasion.

"How's he holdin' up?"

Hawke's roughly spoken words broke the silence

"Sub-normal body temperature, String" Dom informed him, checking the scanners. "Life signs are weak, we need to get him to a hospital."

Hawke shifted resolutely in his seat, gripping the cyclic with determination.

A blip on the monitor had Dom's gaze turning to the scanner.

"String! I've got an incoming!" he announced, typing furiously on the keyboard.

"Couple-a F14's headed right this way!"

Hawke's blue eyes narrowed in the open visor of Airwolfs heavy helmet.

"And they knew right where to find us" he growled " Turbo's!"

"You got it, String!"

Hawke's thumb hit the red button and Airwolf streaked across the orange sky, screaming like a banshee.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

The journey to Cedars Sinai seemed like an eternity to Hawke, even in Airwolf. The landing was bumpy and lacking its usual finesse, but they were down on the ground, and that was what mattered. No sooner had Hawke exited the helicopter, he was surrounded by a myriad of activity…the lead Medic shouting something about paging the Head of Surgery and prepping an OR immediately… Hawke made to follow, only to be stopped by a meaty hand on his arm.

"They've got this, String" Dom said softly, as his surrogate son watched the lifeless form of O'Connor cross the tarmac on a gurney and disappear into the lift with the seven or so medics that were fighting to keep him alive. Realising there was nothing more they could do, the two men reluctantly returned to Airwolf , as she was beginning to draw attention, and after alerting the FBI, Airwolf rose majestically into the sky, on her way back to the Valley of the Gods.

It was much later when the Jet Ranger rounded the last bluff at Eagle Lake and as they approached the cabin, Hawke's gaze swept over his sprawling mountain hideaway, barely recognisable as the retreat he escaped to for solitude so readily in the past. With the large extension Hawke had commissioned, the cabin had been completely transformed from a solitary, almost lonely place to a large vibrant, family home, yet still retaining the rustic charm, warmth and romanticism Hawke savoured, and was grateful to come home to. Without even knowing it, He'd opened up his home, and life to his family and Hawke felt it had gone some way to healing the wounds left by St Johns absence. Le had quickly claimed the newly built upstairs bedroom as his own, and after one horrific foray into the teenage boys bedroom, enough to rival any Airwolf mission, Hawke quickly came to the conclusion that absence probably was the best policy. The Old Loft, as Hawke liked to call it had also undergone an overhaul, giving him more privacy from the endless stream of visitors that frequented the cabin these days. Over the last few months, Hawke had slowly grown accustomed to finding his nephews school friends sitting round the breakfast table most weekends, and hearing them up late at night watching some movie or other and talking about girls in their class, by torchlight. He even found himself joining in with their fishing and hiking expeditions, not to mention a weekly get together with the Oshiro's. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn't feel lonely, and his life was finally full. Well, almost, he thought wistfully.

The new side extension housed two new en-suite bedrooms and bathroom, and Caitlin had immediately adopted the larger of the two bedrooms as her own. At one point, with all the 'emergency' clothes and 'home comforts' , Hawke thought he was going to have to hock an extra chopper just to get it all to the cabin.

He smiled as he thought about Cait's magazines strewn all over the table, open at the page of the latest celebrity scandal, and the way she folded down the corners of newspapers and fishing journals that contained articles she thought he might like. The smile quickly turned into a grimace as he thought about a few nights ago when she'd forced him to watch some chick flick movie, called Top Gun or something. She'd promptly burst into tears at the death of one of the main characters and almost slapped him when he started pointing out the errors in their attack manoeuvres and flaws in their strategies.

"It's a movie, Hawke!" he could almost hear the Texan accent ringing in his ears.

Hawke's eyes suddenly widened as he realised just how much time they'd spent together since Le came to live at the cabin, and was alarmed at his own ease with it. He hadn't even got Le as an excuse for the impromptu movie night, as Le was staying at the Oshiro's and Dom had met up with some of his old army buddies. Hawke recoiled in his seat slightly as he realised he was close.. Too close.

The last of the scaffolding was still visible, clinging to one of the side walls and the tail of Caitlin's chopper peeked out from the rear of the cabin, sitting idly on the new landing platform that had been erected. Hawke felt a warmth encompass him as his gaze alighted on the small plume of smoke that billowed from the roof, and the soft, welcoming orange glow coming from the front windows, indicating that the current occupant of the cabin was still up.

Dom had barely set the Jet Ranger down on the jetty, when Hawke jumped from the cockpit and ducked under the rotors.

"You ok?" Dom asked, yelling over the noise of the rotors.

"I'm fine, Dom" Hawke returned. Dom quickly glanced up at the cabin, and attempting to conceal his widening smile, he returned his gaze to his surrogate son.

"Well, don't forget to call if you need anything, huh? Oh and tell Cait I said hi"

Hawke nodded and ducked back under the rotors to shut the cockpit door. He took a step back and raised a hand as Dom lifted the Jet Ranger back into the night sky, and he was still watching as the chopper disappeared behind the nearest rise.

As silence once again fell over the lake, Hawke shoved his hands into his pockets and half walked, half limped along the jetty towards the cabin. He replayed the evenings events over again in his mind, the ambush, Colonel Lynch, his reason for being there and the arrival of the F14's. it couldn't be a coincidence, but he just couldn't piece together the fractured information. He paused as he reached the front door, and painfully rolled back his shoulders, determined not to clue Caitlin in on his injuries. That was a whole other minefield he just didn't want to walk through right now. Besides, he had problems closer to home. He'd missed Le's soccer game, and not for the first time, he'd let the boy down. He had a lot of explaining to do, and with a heavy heart, Hawke finally pushed open the door to the cabin.

Caitlin O'Shannessy looked up expectantly from the book she was reading, and Hawkes breath caught in his chest as he froze in the doorway, drinking in the beautiful sight before him. Cait sat on the old sofa, her legs curled beneath her, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized green sweatshirt, pledging her allegiance to her sorority, Kappa, Lamboa, Chi. Her strawberry, blonde hair, softened by the California sun, flowed loosely around her shoulders, and her freckled skin was completely free of makeup. Hawke caught sight of his blue tick hound, snuggled protectively into Caitlin's side, and almost smiled as their heads rose in unison in response to his arrival. Tet gave a short whine, unfurled himself and trotted over to greet his master, his mission of protecting Cait in Hawke's absence was now complete.

The corners of Cait's mouth twitched into a grin as Hawke remained rooted to the spot in the doorway, his impossibly blue eyes still fixed on hers. Cait cleared her throat in an attempt to conceal her smile, and slowly closed her book.

"You gonna shut the door Hawke? Or y'gonna let us all freeze to death?"

"Huh?" he mumbled in response to Caitlin's raised eyebrows. Amused, She nodded towards the still open door, the chilly night air on the mountain bending back the flames of the fire roaring cheerfully in the hearth. Suddenly plummeting back to reality, Hawke quickly shut the door, vaguely aware of Tet scrabbling back across the living room to his original position by Caitlin's side.

"I thought I heard Dom's chopper" Caitlin continued, absently scratching at Tet's neck, and missed the small smile that flitted across Hawke's face. With her continued presence at the cabin, Hawke had spent time honing her hearing, teaching her the intricacies of differentiating one chopper from another in order to keep her and Le safe, he'd told himself. His time had paid off, as now, she was almost as good as he was. Almost. Caitlin's eyes returned to the pilot's.

"So? How'd it go?"

Hawke was so lost in her wide, inquisitive eyes, that it took him a moment to realise she was talking about the mission. Hawke quickly rubbed his chin and made his way over to the sofa.

"Wild goose chase" Hawke admitted, grimacing slightly as he lowered himself stiffly onto the sofa. A grimace which hadn't gone unnoticed by Cait. Ignoring her frown, Hawke nudged his dog with his leg, prompting the hound to shoot a disapproving look at his master and relinquish his preferred position by Caitlin's side. With a wide yawn, Tet padded across to the hearth, and settled in front of the burning embers, almost as though it had been completely his idea.

"You mean you didn't find the weapons?" Cait asked, deciding that now probably wasn't the best time to lecture Hawke about first aid. As she shifted closer to Hawke, she felt his whole body tense as her thigh grazed his, and it was only then Caitlin realised why. By the firelight, her eyes swept over the purpling boot-shaped bruise colouring his jaw and the way his hand slipped protectively across his ribs by its own volition. Slowly, she reached up and gently traced the outline of the bruise with her fingertips, enjoying the sensation of the light dusting of stubble against her skin.

"What happened this time, Hawke?" Cait asked with a small smile. "You forget to duck?"

Hawke scowled

"I'm fine"

"Sure y'are." Caitlin replied flatly, jabbing a finger towards his jaw "And that bruise right there didn't just appear all by its self! That's a boot!"

Hawke's eyes narrowed

"I said I'm okay!" he growled

"Fine!" Cait retorted, her Texan drawl thickening as her frustration with the pilot mounted. From his position at the hearth, Tet lifted his head and cocked it to one side with interest as Caitlin pushed herself to her feet

"You are, without a doubt, the most stubborn man I've ever met, Stringfellow Hawke, and that's sayin' some"

Hawke closed his eyes as Cait began to gather momentum. He'd known her long enough to recognise the signs, and knew there was only ever one outcome. She jammed her hands onto her narrow hips.

"Y'know, maybe I should just call Michael and see what he's gotta say about all of this-"

Cait swivelled dramatically on her heel and took a step towards the cabinet where she knew Hawke kept his radio.

"Don't"

Caits eyes collided with Hawke's as he grabbed a fistful of her sweater and slowly guided her back down to the sofa. His hand remained on her waist as an awkward silence engulfed the cabin, and without thinking, Hawke slid his hand down to her thigh.

"So-" Caitlin began, her eyes searching Hawke's "Are ya gonna tell me what happened?"

With his hand still firmly on her thigh, Hawke shrugged a shoulder, and began to tell her the events of the evening, and their brush with Colonel Lynch. Caits eyes widened as he told her of the execution of Michael's team, and almost shuddered as he told her of the ambush, and subsequent escape form Lynch's men. Every now and then, Caits gaze would flicker to the mottled bruise on Hawke's jaw, a constant reminder that Hawke had, as always, found a way out. This time.

"So this guy, O' Connor-" Cait began when Hawke had finished. "Wasn't a FIRM mole?"

Cait leant her elbow on the back of the sofa and buried her hand in her long, strawberry blonde hair as she awaited Hawkes response.

"Nah." Hawke shook his head "He was government, FBI no less-"

"FBI?" Cait's eyes widened in surprise as she removed her arm from the sofa and sat up straight, her freckled forehead creasing into a frown "Hawke, why would the the FIRM send you in after an FBI agent?"

"The whole thing was a set up. They hoped I'd take him out, or the other way around, which ever came first"

"Then Lynch and his goons showed up as extra insurance" Cait replied softly, vaguely aware of Hawkes fingers linking through hers

"Yeah"

The two fell into a comfortable silence as Hawke turned her hand over in his, contemplating the enormity of the situation they found themselves in. Someone, Hawke wasn't sure who or why, had made a deliberate and direct attempt on Airwolf, and the threat was still very much a reality. They were suddenly all in in way over their heads, and just by association with him, Cait, Le and Dom were now in deeper than they'd ever been before. These people were mean and powerful, and didn't care about the sanctity of human life. They did what needed to be done. The people he cared about most were now directly in the line of fire, as guilty as he in the eyes of the law, staring down that same barrel Hawke had been since he'd hidden Airwolf from the FIRM almost three years ago. Hawke knew people like Lynch wouldn't think twice about using them to get to him. They were expendable. Collateral damage. Hawke's throat closed on the thought.

As memories of Gabrielle lying in the Libyan desert flitted through his mind, Hawke squeezed Cait's hand a little tighter, to remind himself she was here right now, with him, safe and alive. He just had to keep it that way.

"You think they're after Airwolf?"

Caitlin's softly spoken words pulled Hawke from his thoughts, and he nodded briefly, still holding Caits hand, almost as if the simple contact kept him grounded and focussed.

"It's the only thing that makes sense" Hawke's brown furrowed "Michael fed us some bogus intelligence about armour piercing weapons and a FIRM mole…they knew we'd take the bait and show up"

Impassivity slammed across Hawke's boyish features as he whipped his hand from Cait's and struggled to his feet. He stalked over to the hearth, his icy gaze settling on the picture of him and St John he kept on the mantel.

"Hawke, you don't think Michael-"

Hawkes head whipped round to look at Cait, and the look in Hawke's eye told her he thought exactly that.

"String, no. I don't believe it" Cait replied firmly, echoing Dom's words. Hawke shoved his hands onto his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels as he turned his gaze back to the photograph of St John.

"Michael's your friend-" Cait paused as she recognised the set in Hawkes shoulders, the pulse in his jaw and realised her words were falling on deaf ears.

"And even if he wasn't your friend, Michael is a man of his word. He made you a deal, Hawke-"

A soft touch between his shoulder blades, indicated that Cait was no longer on the sofa and as he turned to meet her honest eyes , he felt the tension slowly begin dissipate.

The corners of her mouth twitched into a grin

"And if I know Michael, he intends to keep it"

Hawke couldn't help but return her smile. He reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Then, how do you explain the F14's showing up?" Hawke asked, his hand lingering on her cheek

"I can't. " Cait admitted, as Hawke brushed her cheekbone with his thumb "Not yet, anyways, and neither can you, Hawke so don't go off half cocked without all the facts!"

Hawke allowed his hand to fall to his side.

"All I know is, Michael wouldn't risk your life, or Airwolf , I'm sure of it"

Hawke glanced again at the photograph of St John on the mantel, marvelling at her unwavering support of the spy he'd come to think of as an ally. She had her own reasons for putting her trust in Michael, a run in with Ken Sawyer had cemented that, and he couldn't just ignore it.

"I'm sorry, Cait" he replied, turning round and gesturing towards her "You're right"

"I often am" she smiled "You just needed to listen to a voice of reason, that's all"

Hawke took a step towards her and met her gaze

"What did I do to deserve you?"

Caitlin flushed, her gaze lowering from Hawke's, leaving the pilot mentally chiding himself for allowing the words to slip out. As he opened his mouth to mutter an apology, Caitlin spoke.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe shooting up a corrupt Sheriff and half the cowboys in Pope County, Texas-"

They both chuckled at the memory.

Caitlin held his unwavering gaze as she took a few steps forward until they were toe to toe.

"You saved my life, Stringfellow Hawke, even if you didn't want to admit it"

Hawke reached out and took both of her hands in his and stared down at their tangled fingers.

"And you saved mine"

Hawke's roughly spoken words were barely audible, leaving Caitlin wondering what exactly he was referring to.

"Yeah, well-" Cait replied, nudging his hands so he'd look at her. "I guess that makes us even, huh?"

"Even" Hawke agreed with a nod. Fingers still tangled, Hawke sighed and gently tugged her towards him.

"I gotta figure this out, Cait. " Hawke continued, reluctant to break contact "I gotta figure out who's behind this, what they want and why" Hawke paused " All of our lives may depend on it"

Cait nodded, squeezing his hands tightly.

"We will"

Hawke felt a reluctant smile tease his lips at his friends quiet confidence, and their gaze caught and held, eyes of hazel and honey meeting eyes of cerulean blue. Feeling an unexpected frission of attraction, Hawke cleared his throat and took a step back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"How's Le?" Hawke asked, settling upon on a more neutral, less intimate topic of conversation. Attempting to hide her blossoming disappointment, Caitlin returned to the sofa and grabbed her book that she'd left perched on the arm.

"He's real upset you missed his soccer game" Cait informed him, opening the book at the page she'd marked.

"Yeah, I figured " Hawke replied, crumpling tiredly into the seat beside Cait. Her eyes left the words on the page and swept over the dark circles clearly visible beneath his eyes.

"I'll make it up to him"

He slowly closed his eyes , trying to rid himself of the ache of throwing one right hook too many. Cait bit her lip as she watched him flex his right hand, once, twice and slump awkwardly back into the cushions. She sighed inwardly. Stringfellow Hawke was indeed an exceedingly stubborn man.

"You hungry?"

Hawke cracked open an eye, and shrugged a shoulder as Cait slid her hand onto his Denham clad thigh and pushed herself to her feet. He watched her through his open eye as she rounded the sofa and made her way into the kitchen. He was still watching as she stood on tiptoes and reached into one of the top cupboards.

"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll warm some soup " Cait called over her shoulder. Needing no second invitation, Hawke struggled to his feet and took a few steps towards the stairs.

"Hawke?"

The pilot turned at the foot of the stairs, and caught the playful sparkle in her eye.

"You want me to look at those ribs for ya?"

Cait smiled broadly as she caught the icy blast across the cabin, and not bothering with a response, Hawke straightened his posture in defiance, turned and stalked up the stairs.

From his new position on the hearth, Tet raised his head and let out a whine.

"Yeah, Tet. I know" Caitlin replied with a smile, and with that, the red head turned her attentions back to dinner duty.

Hawke paused in the doorway of Le's bedroom, and leant against the doorframe. A small lamp on his nightstand offered a soft orange glow, illuminating his comic underneath, which lay open at the latest adventure of his favourite superhero. A black mop of hair was just about visible on the pillow, peeking out from underneath his Superman duvet, and with a twinge of regret tugging at his conscience, Hawke sighed heavily. Maybe he hadn't thought this whole thing through, taking custody of Le. It had been a knee jerk reaction when he'd found out his Aunt Minh had died, and partly guilt as his adoptive father had been killed by his own hand. He was the only person Le had left that he could call family, and Hawke needed to honour that, even if he had know idea how it was all going to work. Hawke felt his brother was still out there somewhere, and he had to do everything in his power to get him back, for Le Van, even if not for himself.

Hawke took a step inside the room, and crept over to where his nephew slept soundly. Perching lightly on the side of the bed, Hawke tugged the duvet up a little further and reached over to switch off his lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Being careful not to wake him, Hawke gently smoothed out the strands of dark hair on his head and bent to place a soft kiss on his temple.

"Im sorry, Le" Hawke whispered, blinking back his own tears in surprise. "I'll figure this whole thing out. I promise"

With a final glance at his nephews sleeping form, he retreated out of the room, quietly pulling the door until it snicked shut. Hawke stared at the door for a few moments, wondering if he should wake the boy, to try and offer some sort of explanation, but quickly decided against it. Nothing could be solved tonight. As the tiredness finally washed over him, Hawke rubbed absently at the back of his neck and padded dejectedly to the bathroom.

From somewhere beneath the duvet, a glistening pair of dark eyes stared sightlessly off into the darkness, blinking only once as a single, solitary tear plopped onto the pillow.


End file.
